The terrible two’s. Everyone knows this gem of a saying. Your beautiful baby has started to develop an opinion and voices it with flailing limbs and screaming words that may resemble English. Your days become a balance of talking this child off the edge of complete meltdown, and having the foresight to know what they want before they do, so they don’t reach that edge.
Our daily battles include, but are not limited to, the following:
Getting into the car seat
Getting out of the car seat and attempting to play in the car
Trying to ride the dog
Butter vs peanut butter and how I should know the difference even though he uses the same word for both
Not running into the middle of parking lots
Deciding he is no longer willing to walk in the middle of an intersection with the light about to change
Every day has its challenges, and some days you can accept that this little person is still just developing and unable to understand why you ask of them what you do. Some days you really start to wonder if you’ve done this to yourself. Did you not set enough boundaries? Are you not communicating properly? Are you screwing your child up and they’re going to be a raving lunatic for years to come? These thoughts are the ones that drive you mad… and to subscribe to enough wine of the month clubs to get deliveries once a week.
What really kills me is any time I mention the struggles in front of a parent whose child is older than two, they tell me “three is worse”. It gets WORSE?!? You have got to be kidding me. I’m like George Bailey on the bridge and they’re basically Clarence giving me the push off instead of diving in to save me from myself. How do you go on when its gets WORSE?
Obviously, I don’t have much of a choice. I could hightail it to the Caribbean, or go off the grid and live in the middle of the woods, never having to wrestle a soaking wet toddler out of the bathtub again. But who am I kidding, I would miss my boys like crazy and do nothing but wish they were there with me.
What I can (and will) do, is politely ask all of you lovely people that have done your toddler time, to please shut it. Tell me its wonderful, and 3 year olds are just darling. Tell me how they’re potty trained now and speak with more words than grunts, or that they’re growing size means bigger and stronger hugs. Please stop telling me the tantrums are worse than what I’m going through now, because I may just snap and you don’t want to be on the receiving end of that panic attack. Just ask my husband.