I can't begin to describe the copious amounts of stress I am under right now, that I actually feel like I'm going to break. To add the cherry on top, Davis is none other than a awful, very bad, no good, terrible two year old. Is there a cure for this? Can we hypnotize him? Baby Prozac? Something? Anything? Being around a two year old is like living with someone that is bipolar. One minute, he totally loves me, and the next, he's in the midst of the 100th tantrum. By the way, it's only 9am at this point. (Right now, he's kicking the walls. I just want to fill you in on every aspect right now. Found a cure, yet?)
Take this morning for example. I had finally made it to the gym on time for the first day this week, for a class. (It's been one of those weeks with Davis) To help him with the transition of everything that has been going on, he is beyond attached to his Pooh Bear right now. While this is very cute, it makes things difficult when we are out in public. I was letting him bring the bear into the kids area the first few days, to help him get used to being in there. I noticed that when he has the bear, he wasn't wanting to play with anyone or anything else in there, so I cut that off. Today he decided to show me how upset he was about this. I was talking to someone outside of the kids area, and she was saying how cute Davis is. Ha! If only you knew lady. Cute on the outside, flames on the inside. Out of left field, SMACK! Right across my face. I was so in shock that I had no clue what to do. Put him in time out in the middle of the gym? I didn't feel like making an even bigger scene than we already had. I told him no, had a talk with him, and still didn't know what to do. I'm sure some of you are thinking that I should have spanked him. Me wanting to spank Davis is crossing my mind more and more as the minutes go on. But we don't spank. I have my reasons, but that's another discussion. All I wanted to do was go to the sauna and just cry. I feel defeated. Defeated by a tiny two year old. I'm at a loss and am praying that I can figure out something to do with this child before things get worse. Please say they get better!
Seemingly overnight, my son has transformed from a kid we could take anywhere—WOULD take anywhere thanks to his perfect restaurant behavior—into a child that can’t handle sitting in a shopping cart for five minutes while in Target because all he wants to do is squirm and run around and knock things over.
It’s a tough stage. It’s a stage that makes you doubt yourself as a parent. It pushes you far beyond your patience limit and then back again. It’s a stage where one parent is pitted against the other at times, just desperately trying to find a way to make it through our cheeseburgers on a Friday night out in public.
Time-outs work pretty well, but my husband and I are still frazzled and on-edge after a particularly difficult tantrum session. But, thankfully, we’ve found a way to cope—we laugh. We joke that living with our son is like living with a very tiny, very loud, very destructive drunk person–emotionally unstable, extreme mood swings, wobbly gait, copious amounts of drool, liquids spilled on the carpet and a predilection for running around naked. It’s like living with a college student.
So, here’s hoping that this challenging stage passes soon—although it’s sort of the-devil-you-know-versus-the-devil-you-don’t. Because I’ll probably look back at this post later on in life, after he’s totaled our car or something similar, and wish time-outs still worked.
But, I’d love to hear any other suggestions or comments—even if it’s just to express shared misery!
And remember, you may want to share something fast, or googling baby boarding school is in my near future.
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