The truth

Here is something I hate to admit, but I know....I KNOW...other mothers have got to feel the same way, at least sometimes.

Right now, I like G more.
Mostly because he can't mouth off like the 4-year-old does.
I know when he is able to do so, I will not like him either.

G is simply at the stage I adore. He thinks everything is funny. He is easily distracted. He likes to give snuggles and kisses and hugs. He is a mass of fat (not gangly arms and legs that poke into my bones and hurt). He doesn't have an attitude or a tone. He is just developing his little personality but still has a babyish look about him. Wonderful stage of development.

I have lots of moments of the day when I like N, but there is always, always at least an hour of the day when I cannot tolerate her because of the attitude or the demands or the whining. God, the whining.

Today we had a mostly good day until about 5:30 when I gave G and N their baths. G loves his baths---splashes, plays, giggles. N hates her bath---cries, whines, fights, screams. And it just wears me the hell out emotionally. So after dealing with this for even 20 minutes, especially so late in the day, I am fed up, which means I have zero patience when she interrupts me talking to D. Or being under my feet when I am trying to get supper on the table.

And I hate it that I get so aggravated with her, but I simply can't help it. There it is, the ugly truth.

Fortunately, we were able to wrap up the evening well, reading books together and me telling her more of The Lord of the Rings (she's gonna be a sci-fi fool by the time D and I get done with her). And thank heavens for these redeeming moments because it is the worst feeling in the world to not like your own kid, even if it's only for an hour.