I almost made it through the day without raising my voice. I'm making myself consciously aware of what tone I was using and the level of my voice.

But, then, it happened.

While I was trying to go to the bathroom, the baby toddled her way in and landed her daddy's deodorant in her hands. These little humans of mine are insanely fast, so before I knew it she had the lid off and she was knuckle deep.

Not only does Alvi thoroughly enjoy touching things she isn't supposed to, her favorite part is putting it in her mouth.

Lotion, deodorant, popcorn kernels, a piece of chicken nugget from last week that I somehow missed. Literally anything goes with this child, and it goes into her mouth instantaneously. She is a force to be reckoned with. But, none of this is telling you why I raised my voice.

Not only was this child knuckle deep in deodorant and eating it, she started wailing because, of course, it tasted absolutely awful. All the while, her brother and sister had come running in right behind her and were running in circles around her screaming at the tops of their little, tiny, but extremely mighty lungs. For what reason, I will never know.

It was too much all at once, and this was an exact replica of our entire day so far, and I snapped. My children are tiny little tornadoes that make quite the stink. I spend my time reminding myself they are just kids. This is normal. Even though not a single part of it feels that way. What on earth is normal, anymore, anyway?

Stir crazy, relentless, pay attention to me every moment of everyday - kids. Having three of them only intensifies each situation. And I'm trying. Boy, am I trying. I am giving it my without a doubt, absolute best shot. I only get to raise them once.

Never will I be perfect or claim that I am. But, anytime I can limit how many times I raise my voice and/or scold them, it's a win. It's a better day.

They need me, and they need me to spend a lot less time raising my boice and a lot more time accepting that they are just children and things will get better. Someday, I will miss this. Someday, but not today.

Everyday is a chance to start over. To be more aware and gentle with not just our children, but ourselves, too.

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