You know those days where you think to yourself: “Child…today is the day. I’m going to kill you.”? I don’t mean literally, so please don’t call CPS on me. But it’s that exasperated thought that only comes after the 8th temper tantrum in a row while out in public, after you’ve tried quiet-time, nap-time, “any-time-you-can-think-of-to-quiet-this-kid-down” time, after your kid has (after performing an adorably hammy routine at dinnertime) deliberately picked up a fistfull of food – and flung it in your face. Yeah, that thought that comes after all of that.
…Cause I’ll tell ya, mommy didn’t get a naptime today either, and she’s not diggin’ it.
Lord oh lord, it was the day of days. We have officially hit the “terrible two’s.”
You know that blog post I did a couple weeks ago, where I mentioned that I told a mom I worked with that I thought she was doing a really good job, after watching her teenage daughter throw an enormous temper tantrum? Thankfully, that kindness was returned to me amidst the madness. During lunch out, a man had been watching me attempt to patiently deal with K’s numerous tantrums and eventual lobbing of his water bottle over the banister of the outdoor patio we were on (and into the adjacent river); he told me what I had told this other mom, which was that I was a good mom and doing a good job. He then shared an anecdote with me about raising children and grandchildren of his own. It was very nice and I’m sure he knows how appreciated it was, because the timing was impeccable.
Some days, toddlers are hard.
I try very hard to be patient, and I think I can often achieve this end. Some days though, this is an easier task than others. And some days, like today, you pick your child up, put him up over your shoulder (or under your arm, or whatever your mode of transportation is for a tantruming 32-pound human being), bring him outside, and let him sit on a stool and have a fit while you sit next to him and wait for the storm to pass. Then you ask him if shrieking, or talking like a big boy will fix the situation. He sits and looks at you, eventually shakes his head no, sighs a little two-year-old upset sigh, and asks to go back inside the cafe.
And you do the whole routine again until finally you realize it’s time to just pack it up and go home.
Tonight, he went to bed at 6:30pm after the food-flinging episode. And I bet, because he’s so worn out from all of the fit-pitching, he’ll sleep till 7am.
Some days, as hard as it is being a mom, I have to remind myself that it’s also hard being a toddler. I’d probably be frustrated too if I couldn’t communicate exactly what I wanted to.
So, if anyone wants to share their “difficult toddler moments,” go for it 🙂 Honestly, K is a really good boy so I don’t feel like I can complain too much, but I’ll tell you, today was a challenge…