I don't know what I'm doing half the time

Today was supposed to be great. I set my alarm so I could have time to clean the kitchen and get organized before the kids woke up but they woke up first and everything went wrong from there.

So I only have to laugh at myself. Life is not orderly. I can try as much as I can but one human against three with appliances that break, grocery lists that get forgotten and the amount of brain fog I have on a daily basis...why do I even get out of bed?

It's because I love this. Most of the time. 

I think sometimes my priorities are wrong.

Like today, at breakfast. I've been having a really hard time doing Esther's hair lately. She's been screaming and throwing tantrums any time I try. So, I've been doing her hair while she watches Bluey most of the time. 

Today it did not work. Full on tantrum over hair. This is after her hair cut her hair is shorter and less tangly so it takes less than one minute to brush it out. And I use a spray bottle with detangler in it. 

Anyway, she's crying, I'm holding and singing to her (after the hair brushing is done) and she is literally fighting me, but when I put her down she just runs and clings to my leg. I'm at the end of my rope. My other two kids are trying to eat breakfast while this is happening and husband is making coffee. I'm trying to communicate with my 2 year old and asking her to tell me what's wrong, but she's just screaming and fighting me and having inconsolable tears over her 45 seconds of hair brushing. I'm ready to cry myself and lock myself in my room and skip church and why is this happening? I don't understand. Does she understand? Hair needs to be brushed. I don't want to take her to church looking like a neglected urchin. I want to take her to church looking like a cute cherub. 

I'm telling her, while rocking her, that hair needs to be brushed and mama will try to be gentle and I'm trying to remain calm all while she's flailing around and screaming bloody murder...

Becky comes over. Becky tells me that Esther is crying because she just wants to do her hair by herself. I'm thinking Becky is crazy and this is not helpful. Becky gives Esther her 3-D printed egg to hold and suddenly Esther is fine. She goes to the table and starts brushing her own hair. She's happy. She says, mommy, I want to do it myself! 

So Becky was right and I do not understand my own child. And I'm sad because doing Esther's hair is one of my favorite things! But she wants to do it herself.

She currently has all the bows in her hair that we own.

All of this happened before 9am. 

Being two is hard.

Being 38 is hard too.

I'm eating chocolate before church and packing my favorite journaling pens, and praying that Esther won't run all the way up to the pulpit this Sunday.