"Mum of the Year" vs. "Survival Mummy"

You know those moments that happen where you feel like you're a super mom? It might be at the park, or the grocery store, or just at home, but you handle something and feel like "Mum of the Year" (sincerely, not sarcastically!). You deal with whatever is going on and think, if anyone could see me doing this, they'd think, "she's a good mother, she's doing a great job."

I haven't had one of those moments in quite awhile!

I feel like all the moments I have these days are survival mummy moments. With two very active little girls, one about to turn four and one about to turn two, life is never sedate. There's Big Sis with her Big Sis attitude, switching between "mother hen" and "type-A aerobics instructor" with Little Sis, from "here, Little Sis, you can share my teddy bear," to "NO! that is NOT how we play with that! I do NOT want you to use that! Do it THIS way! This is how we play this game!"
Then there is Little Sis, who seems to think she's perfectly entitled to do and have everything Big Sis does and has. So the innate two-year-old stubbornness coupled with this desire to be just like her big sister leads to constant battles! Battles about what cup she may use; about wearing a diaper; about going on the big climber at the park; about getting into her crib... It's an exhausting exercise in "which battles are worth fighting?"
Adding to the survival mentality is the growing list of things, big and small, that have happened since we moved into our first home in November. New roof, new furnace, an 80-foot tree losing a large limb and needing to come down entirely, a "new" bathroom stripped back to the concrete due to mold.. It's all I can do some days to move the girls through the motions of a "normal" day!

So I find that most days, instead of feeling like I'm handling things well, I feel like I'm just keeping my head above water. I feel like instead of driving the train, I am running to hop on the caboose before it all goes off the rails. I forget that a basic premise of parenting is that the PARENT is in charge! I think maybe I need some kind of signal for myself, like tattooing on my hand, "I'm the boss!" or "Mummy is in charge!" It's funny how easily two pint-sized munchkins can distract from this fundamental truth, and how difficult it can be sometimes to just step back and de-escalate.

I think, in the absence of any tattoos, I will try just slowing things down. Instead of expecting a day full of crises (though there have been several lately!), I will just try to let things run their course. And maybe do a little more in the way of sending out calm vibes instead of stressed ones. And if all else fails, I will lock myself in the bathroom with the ipod and a bottle of wine, while the girls run amok doing gymnastics on the beds. That's taking charge, right? :)