Just look at this face

Could someone please tell me how this little person:

can make me feel bi-polar? Seriously.

Saturday morning, this person brought me to tears because I was so frustrated and angry with her... She very much enjoys pushing the kitchen chairs to the counter to see what she can get into up there. She is fully aware that she is not supposed to do this, however, it is great fun so she does it anyway despite any consequences that may be imposed. Saturday morning was no different. I was making my phone calls and she was pushing chairs. I was saying "NO!" in a very loud, stern voice and hoping - really hard - that no one would answer the phone at the exact moment that I was saying No in that voice:) She kept pushing. Kept testing those boundaries.

Meanwhile, her two sisters were fighting in the family room and I sent them to their room. For 5 minutes I hear the fighting and screaming continue up there. Finally, I put the phone down and go up there to talk to them. When I got back downstairs, guess what Miss Naughty was doing? Yup - chair to counter. However, this time it wasn't just apples or pens that she was into - she had poured shampoo all over the counter, the chair, herself, the apples, and the floor. I calmly told her to get down and I cleaned it up. I walked to the laundry room to throw the towel in the wash and said, "Georgia, if you climb back on that chair you are going to get punished." And Miss Naughty, never really caring about what mom says, climbed right back up there to get back to the shampoo.

At that point, I'm not sure if I was as frustrated with her as I was with myself - for not bringing the shampoo upstairs, for not putting the chair back under the table right away, for any number of things that I should have done differently to change the situation - but then again, would it really have changed? Probably not. I lost it.

I can't keep up with them all. If I'm dealing with or taking care of one, the other two are doing something they shouldn't, if I take care of two, the leftover one is creating a disaster. I can't keep up. So crying seemed like the best option at that point. Luckily, Cornbread walked in at that exact moment, heard what happened and sent me on my merry way to paint his office - get out of the house and leave them to him. I love that man.

Yet this is also the little girl who was puking for 4 hours over night on Sunday and every time I walked in to clean up the bed, I honestly thought about how cute and adorable she was - even while she was covered in vomit and causing me to miss an entire night of sleep.

This child smiles like in these pictures and suddenly I feel a smile involuntarily burst onto my face and I feel lighter, happier, calmer. She sneaks up from behind and gives me a big baby bear hug and giggles and my life is good. EVERY time I tell her to "walk on your feet, not on your toes" she stops, bends down and touches her toes - how cute is that? And how much does it make me giggle?

God makes them uncontrollably adorable at this age - he had to, otherwise our population would dwindle from moms either leaving their babies on the highway in the hopes that somone would take pity and take them home OR from moms starting the car in the garage in a desperate attempt to escape for just a little while.