Eli hasn’t even been two for a month and I am just barely keeping it together. Let’s just be real here. It could be the fact that it has been windy and overcast and since its March, my resolve “to get outside everyday” has clearly been overshadowed by the modern convenience of 73 degrees inside. It could be that since I am pregnant I am more tired and slightly more irritable, therefore I have less patience for a boy that needs it by the bucketload. It could be that between babysitting, play dates and nursery at church, he keeps coming face to face with the fact that the world no longer revolves around him. It could be that he is two. All I know is that I’m very close to checking out. I’m drowning in trying to tame the two year old beast, in trying to understand what he wants, in trying to make him a decent human. He is currently in bed, screaming his head off, in the hopes that he will get a good nights sleep and that we can begin anew tomorrow. So to all you other mamas regretting your decision to procreate, I’m right there with you, loving my monster while hating him, just like you. I’m right there, being thankful for bedtimes and fresh starts in the morning.