>Why “why?”
You might guess that I am referencing this morning’s craziness (which has all settled down).
Or you might guess that it was another bout of me whining about my basement flooding or my washing machine breaking down (ok, maybe just a little bit). But you’d be wrong. Mostly.
No, this post is just another short reminder of the silly fun of having a two year old.
Because Gabe’s language is exploding and we now have moved deep into the two year old world of why.
By which I mean, “why?” is the word of the week.
No, it’s not fully understood, but man, it sure sounds good and works wonders.
It can make Mom and Dad stop and grin, and the big kids laugh.
It can get him a hug most every time, especially when it is said with a coy smile and a head tilt.
Because it’s still cute.
And it will stay cute for a short while, until he learns that it is most commonly used with the big kids in a whining sulk or with a defiant stance.
But until then, it’s cute.
I don’t know, it’s just because he’s SO two.

>Snared, part 2


Sometimes, I let myself step right into the bear trap.
And it happens that fast, one minute strolling along on a regular day, generally happy and busy, then CRACK, it snaps.

And in shock and surprise I feel the tremor of frustration and anger race right through me.
And in shock and dull recognition of this familiar path I watch it play out, once again.
The whipcord (figuratively speaking people, sheesh!) of cold anger, splaying out of the reel toward circumstances that really, in so many ways are beyond my control (hence, my frustation) but are not beyond my influence.
And that is the sharp pointed teeth of this bear trap, digging into my heart, my soul, my self.

It can snap as fast as a light switch flipping on.
Only sometimes do I get the warnings, the signs and signals that I’d better watch out, there are bear traps set about….

It’s so frustrating: when I fail to control that temper, when I respond to this particular, well known bear trap. It’s my job to stay calm, to get dead calm, when the one who needs me most gets so out of control. She needs me to not respond to the many buttons pushed, to the lashing attempts to provoke me, or anyone in range. When she gets like this, it is in so many ways and on so many levels, literally, physiologically, out of her control. We all know this by now.

And yet. It is hard some days. It is tiring. I fail. (See becca, is it Friday already?) And as I am the one home around the clock, I am the safest one and thus the one that gets the full brunt of it. And most days I can do well to work through it. Most days I am the one who can calm and weather the storm and understand it as well as it can be understood. It is my duty, my honor, to do so.

But some days, I find my foot in the bear trap and I don’t stay coldly flat calm. I get tired and angry or too busy and I fail. And of course, that only makes it worse; if I respond with any intensity at all. So, soon enough, I then call my fallback, my lifeline and he does the job. {I hate to call him to step in, he’s so busy.} But I’m no fool, I will use the help I can get. See, no mom of the year awards here, ever. But, his voice will be the one to stop the slide. And then we only need time. The trap is sprung. The day goes on. We pick up and begin again.