So far today (it’s 9 in the morning), MM woke me up. She head-bonked me in the face and gave me a bloody nose (I get bloody noses easy when I’m pregnant). She tried to build a fire all by herself. She got the milk from her cereal all over the dining room. She got into my chapstick and ate some of it. She got her crayons all over the floor. She tried to walk in my high heels (she actually does all right). She drew on my desk with a pen. She messed up books. She attempted to clean the toilets while I was in the shower. She complained a lot.
And I am a mother and I tell myself not to get angry. Because in reality, MM played with me this morning. She gave me smiles. She helped out the best she could with everything I usually do in a day when I was a bit slow getting around to things. She entertained herself. She brushed her own teeth. She ate her own breakfast. She was helpful in her own way and playful and loving and a good little toddler. She loves to sing and read and create.
The right perspective is worth a lot.