Bing Bang Crash Boom, Louder and Louder, and Faster and Faster. These are the words used to describe the noise that Mary Anne the steam shovel makes when she is at the peak of digging the cellar for the new town hall in Popperville, of course operated by Mike Mulligan. Do I really need to mention the title and author? I hope not. It is funny because although we do not own a steam shovel, these are often the noises coming from our house. Maybe due to the two children cruising around our apartment or maybe due to me thundering after them. I have been a mother to two for 1 year now, and a mother to one for 3 and a half years. I have been told that parenting gets easier, but am currently trying to track that person down and ask them specifically what they meant.
This week I have been going crazy, repeating in my head, "I have an anger problem, I have an anger problem," hoping that facing my struggle head on will help me to avoid denial and thus actually lessen the blow upon my children. It did help a little. And then I decided to do some serious thinking about why I feel like I am on the verge of calling social services virtually every moment when it dawned on me. Our house has changed. My children are now converging their energy. They are transforming their independent wills to create this new entity. To say its a union would be a bit decieving but they are now interacting more often than not. Myles has given up playing with his toys to play with his sister as if she was a toy. He really just uses her for his etertainement. Putting things on her head, doing barrell rolls with her is his most common form, or taking over any type of play she is actually doing on her own. I must find a way to survive this phase, or I will lose my sanity.
