The twins might have taken awhile to gain weight and walk, but they sure hit their “terrible twos” nail right on the head… wielding a heavy, ugly hammer. It feels like it came out of nowhere; to be honest, Chris and I were a bit shocked. We’ve been through some junk with our kids, but this season with the sisters has been brutal at times. The flailing, the sassing, the fighting, and the ear-splitting shrieking makes the sweet moments seem few and far between. I’m very intentional about refraining from sharing details on here that could one day shame my kids, but dang. Sometimes I put the girls to bed at night and wonder where the day went. They are amazing little creatures, but they exhaust me.
During one particularly rough evening, one twin did not want to get ready for bed. She’d not napped well and was quite obviously tired, but she’d convinced herself she’d rather go back downstairs and play with her big brothers. Things got pretty ugly when she saw her pajamas come out of their drawer, and it was a long time before she was calm enough to get them on. I wasn’t going to man-handle her into her pajamas, but I refused to let her leave her room. We moved through a few different positions and scenarios during the ordeal. I eventually retreated to her bed with her sister to wait it all out. As I watched her carry on with that little sinful nature racket, I grew weary. There are so many things I want to teach this child, I thought, and yet she and I both might not make it to tomorrow morning.
Just as I felt my frustration welling up into anger, I felt a small hand on my hair. My other daughter was stroking my face and whispering in my ear. Don’t be scared, Momma. Don’t be scared.
From the mouths of babes, y’all. We can do the hard things. It’s as simple as that. Don’t be scared.
