The Terrible Twos.
We are officially there.... A-GAIN!
And yes, it's early.
No one tells new parents that the terrible twos start around 18 months and end somewhere close to a child's fourth birthday.
Three nights ago, Amelia refused to put her Brown Bear book away and I told her she couldn't get in the bath tub until she did and after all the screaming and thrashing on the ground and tears, the brown bear book never did get put back and Cole had a bath by himself for once.
At supper, I reprimanded my little girl for throwing her sippy cup on the ground and she whapped me in the face and laughed. It didn't hurt, but I really dislike washing spaghetti sauce off my glasses.
And all week, Mark and I have had difficulty having a civilized dinner discussion over the tantruming little girl in the living room. The other night Mark did me a favour and took her up to her bedroom to tantrum and she got so upset she threw up.
AWESOME! And he just cleaned it up. He didn't make a big announcement or declaration about the event. He just treated it like an everyday occurance. Oh yeah, in our world, sometimes this happens. Cry so hard you spew spaghetti all over the rocking chair.
I'd forgotten.
I'd forgotten that you can't reason with a toddler. I'd forgotten how emotional they are. I'd forgotten how often I stare at them in dismay and shake my head and wonder if there must be something physiologically wrong with them. Like surely no human would make this kind of a fuss unless they had a push-pin stuck in their foot or their chest skin was caught in their zipper or something, right? Perhaps she's got five molars growing in simultaneously? Or perhaps we just need to STAY CALM AND CARRY ON and as veteran parents know that if we stay the course we'll come out the other side, a little wiser, a little greyer, but still alive.
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