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 For whatever reason, his normal, jovial self has been replaced by a testy, hair-triggered, short-fused, naughty naughty difficult and challenging child.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.
5 comments:
The funny thing is there are phases very similar to the one you speak of at every childhood age. I think it is related somehow to the phases of the moon, because it always seems when my girls are having a bad week (like this one), that their little friends are doing the same. You may think that it would get easier as they are better able to communicate. Ummmm...no. But I have to say I've learned that just when you think you can't take it anymore, they do something sweet or call for your attention just to say, "I love you, Mom," and then it starts all over again. :) Hang in there, Steph!
Well, as for the "omeeelt", you probably STIRRED it (or didn't). I left Harold in charge of the twins one time, and he actually cooked oatmeal for them, just as I usually did for breakfast. He put on the brown sugar and milk and then, as HE liked to do, stirred it until it was like a thin gruel. I, on the other hand, had no time for such things when serving them breakfast before dashing out the door to work, and would just dump in a bit of milk and the brown sugar and leave the oatmeal in "clumps." Well, the refused to eat it because it was "stirred" and not "like Mom's oatmeal." Yes, two year olds are designed to try parents' souls (especially Mom's). Just hang in there and enjoy it now, realizing that one day he will be a teenager! Sorry, I just couldn't help that! Love you!
Just for the record, I have a latte in hand by 8 a.m. several days a week. Does this qualify as a drinking problem?
I suppose you don't want to hear that 3's are worse?...at least for Connor they are. Hopefully Wyatt is getting his out early!
Have you met my son, Ty?
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