Lightening Doesn't Strike Twice

I love first-time moms.  Love to hear their enthusiastic and optimistic predictions of how motherhood will be, so full of hope, vim and vigor.  They've got a plan, damn it, and their flawless execution of said plan will naturally yield THE perfect child.  I am not mocking you.  I.  Was.  You.  And to hear you talk, it brings me back to a simpler time; a time when I only had two grey hairs; a time when all the baby clothes were hung ever so neatly in the closet and folded in the proper drawers; a time when, my first born still tucked away inside, I just knew she would be amazing and wonderful in every single way.  She was going to be funny, gorgeous, smart, obedient and always happy.  (Three out of five ain't bad, right?)

But even more fun than that?  The moms who've had their first, been blessed with a seriously awesome specimen of baby, and who can't possibly understand all the hoopla of how difficult it is to raise children.  I listen with sincere fascination, I do not mock you.

I.  Was.  That.  Mom.

You remind me fondly of a time when things were calm, happy, and there were only tears once every few days.  A time when I looked upon other mothers with confusion and maybe just a little bit of judgement (I am NOT proud. But I am honest.)  Seriously guys?  How hard can this be?  (Don't worry, karma is having its way with me.)  For her first five years she was quiet, happy, smart, funny, gorgeous, and the worst punishment she ever faced was a time out.  By God, did a time out set this little girl straight.  Up until about age five, she was amazing.

Whenever I wonder why I thought more kids would be nice, I just look back at this sweet little thing.

I can't be sure whether it was the arrival of her sister that triggered it, or if we were always destined to meet the child she would turn into.  No matter; there was no possible way I could've been prepared for what came next.  As I brought this thing into the world:

Yes, that face does indeed express her desire for world domination and chaos.

....the elder decided it was time to throw tantrums, put on her sassiest sassy pants and master the art of eye rolling.  Concurrently, the screaming sweet, crazy cute, wild wonderful baby we welcomed into the world spent 10% of her day happily sleeping and the other 90% frustrated and mad that there was no way for her to rule the world from her bouncy seat.  I was stunned.  How could mommy-hood go from being only ever rewarding and great fun to...so much work!  

#1 decided she would only eat chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese, even if I followed through on every threat to send her to bed without eating at all, she persisted.  In comparison to #2 who will not even sit at the table without emitting ear piercing shrieks in protest to any food that is not a fruit or a cookie, #1 was STILL a walk in the park.  Even their tantrums can't be measured by the same yardstick.  In response to all my gloating and boasting, I was given the most difficult child you will ever have the pleasure of meeting in addition to the warping of my "easy child" into a dramatic, flailing, back-talking little beast.

That isn't to say you moms of one are gloating or boasting, not at all.  But if ever you DO chuckle to yourself about the mom who can't get her kid to eat a veggie/go to bed at a reasonable hour/buckle into the car without pitching a fit, remember... if you decide to throw together a jumble of DNA again, it's a game of Roulette, and if you're as lucky as me, you'll end up with one of these:

This isn't to say she doesn't have her good days and that I don't love most everything about her.  When I'm in a sane and logical place I say to myself, she's strong-willed and her ferocity will get her anything she wants in life; she will never settle.  #1 is dramatic and sassy but that's what makes her pretty amusing and hilarious to listen to.  These things about them that drive me up the wall are what defines them as individuals and will develop into traits later in life that will be quite useful and I need to be thankful they were blessed with such uniqueness.  I'd like to believe it's my ability to reason in such a way that I was shown mercy with #3...

She smiles with her entire little self.

...but this isn't me letting my guard down.

Oh hell no.  I'm fully aware of what that leads to.