My son - the joy that he is - seems to have heard that two-year olds are unreliable at best and incredibly difficult at worst. He wants to really live it up, so he's aiming for the incredibly difficult end of the spectrum. For whatever reason, his normal, jovial self has been replaced by a testy, hair-triggered, short-fused, naughty naughty difficult and challenging child. I love him. I really do. But there have been a lot of times over the last week or so that I don't particularly love his company.
My sister kindly reminded me this is all part of the toddler credo - if it's open it must be closed, if it's down it must be up, if it's full it must be emptied, etc. - but this new Attitude (it deserves a capital letter because obviously it is its own being) is making me C.R.A.Z.Y. Yes, there are still glimpses of the sweet child I once knew, but man! I am earning that rare time. I get frustrated with the whining for milk only to have it dumped on the table when he gets it; the crying to be "up peeze" for him to then hit me or pull my hair; the begging to eat followed by shoving away the food he asked for and launching into an all-out fit; the wriggling to get down but then acting as if his legs are Jello and not standing up. I kid you not, he cried for about an hour this morning because for some reason his oatmeal was offending. Yet even as he was blubbering, he was still asking for his "omeeelt" that he had just rejected. It his hard to please a person in that condition.
The rational part of me realizes that he is trying to assert his independence, is only going through a phase and that this, too, shall pass, but the childish part of me wants to join in with him and pout and cry and also throw something (I might as well, since he does that, too) or maybe just pay someone else to take him for the next week or month. But no, I suck it up, speak calmly and rationally, issue timeouts when appropriate and, in really desperate moments, resort to doing shots of espresso courtesy of my local Starbucks and a very timely mother's day gift from Jeff. So if you talk to me and I tell you that I had a latte in hand before 8:00 am, you know it's a little rough over here. Please take it easy on me.