we've been dealing with some hard-headedness around the mitchell household lately.
gone are the days when the boys so sweetly lift up their little legs to assist with a diaper change. these days, they can't even be distracted with a toy or a tantalizing mobile dangling above their heads over the changing table. diaper change time is all out war at our house. before the pants are off, the spuds are rolling over, sitting up, trying to stand, reaching for something besides what i have to entertain them.
the worst is at around 8a.m. why? because that is when, without fail, they poop.
rolling around while i'm trying to change a wet diaper is frustrating. rolling around with a dirty one half on/half off is just plain nasty. i've given up on the idea of a cute changing table cover. we're down to the plastic that can be easily and quickly wiped down. hopefully before they step in their own poop or worse.
i just don't understand how it can be so irritating to them to allow me to remove the filth from their lives. i can't figure out what can be so pressing that they can't wait a moment for me to help them. and it boggles my mind how stubborn they are and how this happens time and time again -- they can't seem to remember that the end result is better and they can't trust me to get the job done.
but diaper changing is not the only time we are running into this attitude.
in order to keep the boys safe from stairs and cords and to give the cat a safe haven (and thus protect the guys from her wrath), i construct a barricade in the living room. a few stools laid sideways used to be sufficient. but it has had to become more and more elaborate -- not to mention solid -- as my teeny houdini has figured out countless ways to get around it or through it and make a break for the steps.
lately there have been screaming fits when he is unable to penetrate the barricade. it doesn't matter that every single good thing in his life is on his side of it. it doesn't matter that he can be closer to me if he just stays where he is. he is determined to go where he ought not go. i tell him no and even give him a better option, but his little mind is set in one direction and one direction only.
and he gets so mad.
he will even ram his head into the wall in an attempt to breach it.
and so it occurred to me the other day as i was fighting with my hard-headed rascals and trying not to lose my patience with them that i am god's child.
no, i take that back.
i am god's hard-headed infant. i have so much that i want to get done and so many plans of my own that i often can't take the time to let him clean up my life. i'd rather roll around in my own filth than suffer through a time of healing, learning, and cleaning. i just can't seem to trust him that his way is really better. i have been known to ram my head into closed doors, sure that where i want to go is right and not realizing that perhaps that road block is there for my protection or to keep me headed in the right direction.
and i get so mad.
so, like i said, we've been dealing with some hard-headedness at our house. i guess it runs in the family.