All's well that ends well--i.e., a normal Sunday with a two-year-old

All's well that ends well.

It feels great to think that to myself now, with the house mostly picked up again and relaxing alone on Sunday evening, with my little angel sleeping peacefully in her bed.

Yet another day has passed, another day in the life of raising a wonderful, adorable, strong-willed, and oh-so-stubborn (good thing she gets something from her father) two-year-old. As I cast a satisifed glance around my orderly living room, I inhale the grapefruit scent of my candle and then remember the day as it was.

This morning, being Sunday, we had planned to go to church. We haven't been able to go for several weeks in a row due to all of Yaminah's colds/fevers/general health problems. So today she was looking forward to going and I had placed her outfit for the day so her dad could easily get her dressed before church (he always dresses her since I seem to need all the time I can to get myself dressed. Plus, this week she has started saying "No, Mommy. Daddy do it!" for most such tasks). This was to be the first time Yaminah wore her new clothes, her adorable new clothes that I finally managed to find on closeout sale from my dream clothing store, Danish brand Noa Noa. As a student, the only way I could afford these dreamy clothes was for them to be on sale big-time. Recently when they were 70 % off, I finally bought three items for Yaminah. And the last time we nearly went to church, about a month ago, Yaminah had wanted to wear them, until we discovered she had a fever and we had to stay home that day too. So today, with great anticipation on my part, Tomas got her dressed. All was well for a few moments, until she decided she wanted to change into her Pippi Longstocking dress. Background information: Yaminah loves everything to do with Swedish cartoon figure Pippi Longstocking right now, and we have bought her several t-shirts and such. These are fine for daycare and day-to-day wear, but once in a while, I like to indulge my adorable-daughter fantasy. You know the one: it is when Yaminah and I are running in a wildflower meadow, holding hands, or the one where Yaminah and I are on a tropical beach, in matching straw hats, picking seashells. Now, Tomas has pointed out that I have a tendency to get my hopes up a lot in life, and sometimes reality is a bit different.

How different? Once Yaminah was dressed in her lovely dress and hand-stitched handwash only wool sweater from Noa Noa, she promptly threw herself down to the ground and in full-down meltdown crisis mode, with tears, mucous, screaming, writhing--the works. But then the clock started ticking so I had to jump into the shower anyways. "It's Sunday, it's okay, relax, showers are relaxing..." I kept repeating to myself, as I turned up the water pressure to max and tried to lather in a relaxing body wash, to ignore Yaminah's screams outside the bathroom door. Relax, relax...

After a difficult struggle of calming the two-year-old, cleaning her up and packing all kinds of bags, backpack, snacks, outerwear, etc, to bring with us to church (one would think we were moving every time we attempt to go anywhere!), we dashed out the door and made it. We were even five minutes early. Yaminah was back to her happy self again then, and we actually held hands walking into the church. In her lovely dress and my skirt, holding hands, for just a few moments my perfect angel fantasy was not far off.

Yaminah did great in church. She listened, went to Sunday school with Tomas, ate three hot dogs afterwards, and played in the gym. Then we walked into town and enjoyed a lunch out at a restaurant while she slept peacefully in her stroller. After church we returned home and my friend, Maria, came over for a tea party and playtime with her two daughters. The girls had a great time together. Here they are enjoying raisins, orange slices, chocolate chip cookies, pretend cupcakes, and tea.

After they all left and Yaminah adorably kissed the girls goodbye, we were back to exhausted-meltdown mode, brought on by me saying it was time for supper (which she had just previously said she wanted). After doing everything I could to coaxe her to the table, including trying to gently drag her to her chair, I gave in. I brought her little table and chair into the living room, dried her tears, and let her eat supper in front of her beloved Pippi movie. Not a Mother-of-the-Year choice, I know, but she ate all of her supper, and we both sat and ate in peace.

Then after a 45-minute bath, potty time, bedtime routine, evening prayers, potty again, back to bed, and a sliced pear in bed for a last-minute snack later...here we are. Mommy is relaxing in alone with my uplifting grapefruit candle for company. Tomorrow is Monday--but one day at a time with a two-year-old.