The terrible two's has set in with gusto in our home. It actually started a little after he turned one, and hasn't stopped since. Sure there are not so bad days and there are nightmare 'kill me now' days, but on the whole, pushing mommy's buttons seems to be the only thing my son is in to.
If he doesn't get what he wants he will throw himself on the floor, alternatively bang his hand against a wall or throw a suitably heavy toy on the floor for effect. With my (older and always more calm) daughter, I thought I had mastered the skill of clever compromising, but that was before I realized that parenthood is not just about dodging corners, it is about running through the battlefield, ducking and diving without crash-helmet. Petty negotiating doesn't work - you have to master the art of downright negotiation, go in to strike the deal but be prepared to give something up. Usually your dignity as a human being.
He wants to watch TV. The TV is sleeping right now, I say. He doesn't give up. He wants to watch his Thomas DVD. But Thomas, and the TV are sleeping, I say (big meltdown). I then pretend to turn the TV on and look! The screen is black. TV is sleeping. Why don't we go upstairs and play with your train track instead.
Sure.
But then he wants a snack. OK, how about some strawberries. No, Goldfish. No goldfish just before lunch, try the strawberries. No, apple. We don't have any apples, how about.... a banana? No (small, whiny tantrum), apple. Strawberries or banana. Those are the options. Small tantrum is about to turn in to massive explosion. OK. How about.... a rice cake?
Never in my life have I managed to jazz up a rice cake as much as I am doing right then. I am using my most seductive 'rice cakes a sooo yummy' voice and finally, he falls for it.
And that is my life.
'Let's go find the car' voice, 'Isn't leaving the playground so much fun' expeditions, 'How many seconds can we go through the supermarket without a tantrum' games, the options are endless, and all the while, I am carrying a screaming, crying, kicking two year old monster in my arms, trying hard not to break my back as I maneuver him in to his car seat or his high chair or his stroller.
It's just a face right? And the smiles and cuddles in between more than make up for tantrums. It's just so damn exhausting. A never ending battle...
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
Sometimes I think I'd happily trade my 17-year-old for another two....but never a three though, honestly, threes and seventeens are not far removed.
ReplyDeleteI remember how exhausting they could be at that age. I have three who all handled their demands differently. I had no tolerance for it and, it seems the more annoying they got, the easier it was to say no. I would watch a tantrum for a bit, then walk away and say "let me know when you're done and I'll get you some strawberries". Eventually they decide the yelling and crying is having no affect and do it your way. Of course, I also keep waiting for mine to appear on Dr. Phil and bring me as a surprise guest.
Hi Beachcomber - thanks for coming back to the blog, it's really nice to hear about other parents and their honest experiences, it makes me feel less lonely:)
ReplyDeleteMaybe I'll see you on Dr Phil, I have a sneaky feeling that I might end up there too, haha.
Take care!!