When Your Terrible Two Toddler is a Gremlin
Terrible Twos.
One of the most widely known phases of motherhood and child development. Or in a nutshell, hell year. Yes, colleges have hell week...toddlers have hell years (yes that was a joke for all of you sensitive people).
But let's get real and all acknowledge the fact that terrible twos or threenager or whatever it is, IT REALLY EXISTS. Maybe not both of them for all parents, but chances are you're going to experience one of them, both of them or half of each. And if you deny any involvement in this we can't be friends. Period.
The stages of motherhood go like this for the first four years:
- Oh my gosh I love you so much I'm afraid I'll eat you up.
- Oh aren't you cute -- running around -- wait...drop the scissors. No stop pulling your sisters hair. Oh you said your first complete sentence!...wait get down from there NOW! I.SAID.NO.
- Kid, I am not tolerating that attitude, you do NOT tell me no. Oh you wanna do this right now? Leggo.
- You're so inquisitive -- but yes baby, for the 147th time I don't really know what lizards eat. And yes, I love you too.
Terrible twos and the threenager have to be the MOST trying time for parents. Like for real, I don't care what anyone says about teenagers. Okay, maybe I do care...but just have some sympathy for me okay?
These little humans are the equivalent to a bi-polar gremlin sometimes. I mean one minute they are all "Mommy, I love you" and the next minute they are slapping you because you said they couldn't color on the sofa. I never know sometimes if getting my toddler down to bed requires armor and bribery or just the typical books and cuddles.
Others say that these are the good years and that they just get harder as they get older, but all I can think about is that when they are older they can A) verbally communicate what their freaking problem is B) whine in their room instead of on my kitchen floor C) more than likely not throw objects at me or their siblings D) understand that I am not Burger King where everything is your way E) understand the difference from being upset to being a complete PSYCHOPATH and F) learn that stomping their feet gets you nowhere in life except maybe Lord of the Dance.
Okay, let me calm down. Whew. I got a little carried away. But that's what happens when you're dropping truth bombs on the daily, I guess.
To be honest I don't even know where this article is going anymore because I've had to stop writing 74 times just to break up fights, but the blanket the "correct" way, move the pillow to her choice of position today (yesterday it was elsewhere) and listen to a two year old try to do everything under the sun to NOT go to bed.
So to be honest, I'm exhausted. Exhausted from the battles. Exhausted from the dare devil stunts my two year old insists on and the ways in which she tries to show her independence. I get it kid. You're unable to communicate how you feel, process your emotions and you're just a curious body trying to figure out this great big world. I GET IT. But it is hard some days. *Translation: most days.
(Tip: WINE).
BUT THEN...
Then they finally get some sleep. They are well rested and their bellies are full and they wake up and it's like a fresh start. They are the cutest, cuddliest and most precious human being to watch. From the way they rub their still sleepy eyes to the way they snuggle their face right into the curve of your neck, they are literally THE.CUTEST.AND.SWEETEST.THING.EVER. They learn new things, new words and proving to be more of a "big kid" each day. They even stop you in your tracks when they comfort a hurt sibling or tell you they love you (and your first thought is "oh she really does have a heart!" #guilty).
You look at them and realize the sweet innocence of this little miracle you created and you still find the little features that makes them a "baby" even though you know they are growing up at lightening speed before your eyes. And then you just want to suck in each and every moment and never let it go. You want to remember the way they smell, the soft baby-like cheeks they still have and the little dimples in their squishy, little fingers. You imprint each moment, feature and highlight right then and there.
And your heart beams with pride, joy, love and contentment. Motherhood is truly a gift from God. You love this little fire ball, fire breathing dragon, I mean firecracker with every fiber of your being. You embrace the things that make your toddler "unique."
But then that sweet baby full of innocence and wonder loses her crap again and that's a wrap folks. Duty calls over here...so let me suit up in my armor and bid you adieu.
Cheers to all of my gremlin moms!