craptacular, thanks, and you?
This weekend. It was hard. And last week. That was hard too. I’ve been dealing with a lot of no-fun emotional yuck, and on top of all that, Zibbit is 2 1/2. I shouldn’t have to say anything else. All I have to say is that she’s 2 1/2 and that should be enough to make you all say, “Oh, dude, we didn’t realize. I’m so sorry. How’re you holding up?”
When you have a newborn, everyone’s always asking you how things are going. Are you getting any sleep? How is the breastfeeding going? Are your stitches healing ok? Everyone is so concerned and willing to listen to your gripes about blocked ducts and colic. It’s such a shock, to your body and your way of life, to give birth. That tiny little person creates a massive upheaval in your schedule and priorities. It’s hard. And exhausting. Everyone tells you things will get easier as your baby gets older. And that is the meanest, most horribly malicious lie you will ever hear in your entire life.
I would like to find each and every one of those people who told me things would get easier, that we would adjust, and stick them in a room with this demon who used to be my child for an hour. Just one hour and they will be begging me for mercy, offering me money and diamonds and yachts, anything I want if I would please for the love of all that is good and holy just let them leave.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my daughter very much. And I haven’t called for an exorcism yet. Although I’ve come close. The kid will not wear clothes anymore. She will not eat. She will scream bloody murder for chocolate every day at six am, and shoot death daggers from her eyes if you even so much as suggest a diaper change. She will also whack you in the eye with her binky if you ask her nicely to please stop licking your face and tell you to “leave me ‘lone” when you try to kiss her goodnight. She will demand that you read her a book while at the same time refusing to let you look at the page to see the frickin words. She will shriek like a dying raccoon when you put her into the bathtub and then double the volume when you try to get her out. And then, when you’re just about to throw yourself from the roof to make it all end, she’ll come to you out of the blue and give you giant sloppy kisses while telling you how much she loves you. I feel like I’m living with an alcoholic. The inconsistency is making me crazy. I never know what’s going to set her off. Am I enabling her when I let her wear nothing but shoes to bed? Is there an Al-Anon for parents of 2 1/2 year olds?
And don’t you dare tell me that things will get easier. I just might have to hurt you.
I had a really terrible weekend myself, and I’m sorry to say that at least 1/2 of it was because of my 4-year-old, who is probably your daughter’s long-lost brother. I remember a post I wrote once a couple years ago: “My 2-year-old has colic.” No, it hasn’t gotten easier. (He doesn’t eat dinner ever.) But, “it does get different.” Look forward to the different! Hang in there!!
Comment by Amy — November 13, 2006 @ November 13, 2006 at 8:25 pm
Dude, it’s cool. Her liver is good for *years* yet.
Comment by Megan — November 13, 2006 @ November 13, 2006 at 8:25 pm
Whoever coined the phrase “terrible twos” obviously had not gotten to the threes yet. Two is hard, but three? Three is much worse.
Hang in there.
Comment by Karen — November 13, 2006 @ November 13, 2006 at 8:35 pm
I have a 2 1/2 year old too. But I’m not sure if it’s her or her 4 year-old suddenly defiant sister that will be the death of me.
Comment by Melessa — November 13, 2006 @ November 13, 2006 at 8:40 pm
Rolll with the punches, babe, rolllll with ‘em! Float like a butterfly! Sting like a bee! have some coffee! looks like I have had too much myself!
u still make it all look darn effortless, missy.
Comment by Jenn — November 13, 2006 @ November 13, 2006 at 8:53 pm
Oh, she’s 2 1/2? I didn’t realize! I’m so sorry! How are you doing, are you hanging in there?
I don’t know if it ever gets easier, but it does get different.
Does that help?
Comment by Melissa — November 13, 2006 @ November 13, 2006 at 10:48 pm
Like my mom always said (she had four sons), when your child is born, expect not to get much sleep the first 18 years. Then they move out.
Comment by Marc André — November 14, 2006 @ November 14, 2006 at 5:47 am
Bless your heart! I won’t say it gets better — I will say those cute 2 1/2 year olds grow up to be their mommies. How’s that for encouragement?
It somehow gives you poetic justice years down the road. Hang on to that rain gutter and don’t jump.
Comment by Morning Glory — November 14, 2006 @ November 14, 2006 at 9:15 am
I won’t tell you that because I have an almost 11 year old. And it feels like he’s 2 1/2 again. So, does it make you feel a tiny bit better knowing that I am going through it too? Only with a larger, more eloquent and stronger kid?? Probably not. But I would also have to say that since my 5 year old still insists on sleeping naked and I finally convinced her that panties would be better than just plain naked…I would say enable away. They are only this age once….at least in her dreams Zibbit’s not barefoot which could cause owies on her feet if she were barefoot. Dreams can be quite big adventures and I would take shoes over a nightie anyday!
(wink wink)
Comment by Queen Beth — November 14, 2006 @ November 14, 2006 at 11:39 am
I guess I’m an old fashioned parent, because I don’t care how many fits are thrown, my 2 year old had better obey me. I’m the grown-up in charge and if I say jammies, she will wear jammies, or there are consequences. Mine is typically two, tries all of the things you described, screams bloody murder often, but she does what I say when I say to, so it doesn’t bother me if she screams while doing it. That isn’t meant to sound critical or make you feel bad or more overwhelmed or anything else, I know it’s hard. I have just learned that it’s much easier for me if I establish strong boundaries early and stick to them and then we have way fewer of those two year old battles when they start pushing for independance. Oh, and I give them choices and allow them space to grow where it’s appropriate.
Comment by carrien — November 14, 2006 @ November 14, 2006 at 11:48 am
Me again, to just say um… sorry that coment came off the way it did, because I know exactly how exhausting it is, mentally and emotionally, to be screamed at all day by a child, regardless of how they’re parented.
Comment by carrien — November 14, 2006 @ November 14, 2006 at 2:58 pm
Ooooh! Two-and-a-half? I have one of those right now, also. He can be so sweet, but boy, does he have a stubborn streak! We survived it with the first four, and we’ll survive his defiant attitude, too. Now, if we could just convince his four-year-old sister that she is NOT a teenager!
Take heart! Two-year-olds have to test their limits! Better now than later!
Comment by Mom2Six — November 14, 2006 @ November 14, 2006 at 4:07 pm
HAHAHA!!!! Don’t worry i am not laughing at you, just that I awoke this morning feeling that exact same way, and then I got your comment on my Batman and Church blog, and then I read this… PERFECT!
The 4 year old in my blog is turning 5 next week, the 19 month old is now 2 1/2 and the baby is now 1 1/2… MOst days I want to run away to a secluded island and oogle super hot perfectly tanned muscely men…. Mmmmmm yum *sigh*… but alas, I am at home with my 3 little tantrum throwing men, and my 1 husband (who also throws tantrums…) Grrr…. If only you lived closer we could get our two demon childeren together and see if the world ends! You let me know if it ever gets any easier ok??? Because on days like today I think that I am getting some serious payback, or punishments, either way.
xoxo
GEorgia
Comment by Georgia — November 15, 2006 @ November 15, 2006 at 8:54 am
I have a 3-1/2 year old and a 1-1/2 year old and some days I feel like we’re lucky to all make it through the day. So far, it seems to just get harder and in different ways. And you’re right about the inconsistencies, that IS the worst part. It would be SO much easier if I knew just what to do or just what to avoid every day.
Comment by jennie — November 16, 2006 @ November 16, 2006 at 8:04 pm
I have felt those death-dagger looks and I feel your pain. Stay the course, soldier. Don’t waiver, or you have lost.
Comment by Karli's mom — November 19, 2006 @ November 19, 2006 at 7:12 pm
I have felt those death-dagger looks and I feel your pain. Stay the course, soldier. Don’t waiver, or you have lost.
Comment by Karli's mom — November 19, 2006 @ November 19, 2006 at 7:12 pm