We are ten days into TWO! and I'm beat.Between the NO MORE NAP! status and the dozens of full on wrestling matches instigated daily, I'm just beat.
Nap Strike 2007 turned into a full embargo on the Land of Nod. The only saving grace is the early bedtime. But it doesn't seem worth the afternoon tantrums from the unnapped toddler.
Somebody (with the initials SB - not that I'm naming names) taught her how to round-house kick. Nice one.She yells "HIIIIII YA!" and smacks me around like her name is Chuck Norris and I'm trying to keep the Delta Force down.
BTW - did you know that there is no chin under Chuck's beard? Yessir, there is only another fist. I'm pretty sure Bumper is also built that way but her extra fist is set to random and can pop out from any place, at any time (at least when she is near her mommy).
Yesterday I had to confiscate from her possession: a miniature hockey stick, a toy golf club, and a plastic hammer. She tried to use all three on me - at the same time. They have now joined the bat at the back of the closet.
Poop has shot to #1 on Bumper's Buzz Tot Talk trademark pending. Cynical Dad tells me poop talk will never end. Oh well, the first two years were fun. Who's idea was it to teach her to talk? Oh right, we thought it would make things easier.
Easier. That's laughable.
Each time I read another blogger's post extolling the beauty and ease of two I resist the urge to (i) cry and whine in their comments, (ii) call them LIARS, or (iii) swap toddlers with them in the dead of night.
I must end this by saying if any folks out there concerned about my sanity (*crickets chirping*) - oh come on, no one cares? Anyhooo... if some random stranger comes along and is all like "OMG what the hell is she complaining about? What a bad mom" to you I say "get a life and while you are out shopping, why don't you pick up a can of sense-o-humour". I wouldn't change a thing about Bumper, I'm just tired and constantly beat by a strong willed toddler. Something many many folks would give their left nut to experience.
Though while on topic... if given the chance to change something, I'd find her sleep control and have it adjusted in my favour, but other than that, I wouldn't change a single, precious thing.
[This is supposed to be a cute photo of B holding a big stick yet for some unknown reason Blogger hates me and won't upload - but trust me, it's cute]
16 comments:
Yes blogger is being bad and should be beaten with a stick and a bat.
I'd suggest crayons but they can easily be turned into weapons as well. Really there are no safe toys.
I have the essential, perfect two year old and I'm also a complete LIAR. She only sleeps until I go to bed and then the party starts. Good times. Without coffee I'd be lost.
I'm afraid to tell you 3 is not so much better. But maybe my wake-up-at-the-drop-of-anything daughter is just a late bloomer?
Heh. Just wait until three, suckah!
Maybe you can replace all the toys with Nerf products.
I'll BET it's cute. Until she wields it.
And you know, kids are different. They sprout different sets of horns and bad habits at different times. So while mine was an easy two-year-old most weeks, there were THOSE times, and now that she's three, she's getting tougher. Who knows, maybe Bumper will mellow? Maybe? Or you'll have developed better tactics than I have because you've already been combat-hardened?
Did someone actually say two was easy? I must have been absent that day. Thankfully the Boy doesn't hit me with sticks (..yet..), but he does have a charming habit of being unhappy with EVERYTHING I do. I've stopped trying to please.
I could use that can of sense-o-humour, please.
your sanity? I didn't even think this was mean but I threaten to sell my kid on ebay all the time.
Oh my gosh. What kind of parent...
: ) I'm just teasing. And we all have those seasons, although my two year olds were actually quite easy on the whole. It was three that really got them going. At two, they were so excited to be able to do stuff that they did everything I asked. At three they woke up and realized, "Hey, it is easier being the baby."
You know what NoMo says, "Raising kids is easy...if you drug them first." Words to live by, I say. ;)
Two with KayTar has been a cakewalk, except for well, the fact that she's KayTar and all that goes along with that. BubTar was a different breed...and breed closer to Bump from the sound of it, although he's still a die hard napper (don't hate me!) at 5.
I was just saying to my husband yesterday, "I forgot how exhausting two-year-olds can be." Only the baby isn't two yet, she's (almost) 21 months. She just acts like a two-year-old, with the bossing and the hitting and the throwing and the demanding of Smarties at 7 a.m.
She's lucky she's so damn cute.
Who said two was easy? You can read my last year's worth of posts for proof that two is hell.
I think of it as boot camp in preparation for the teen years.
Two has most certainly been terrible around here, and I'm not holding my breath that three will be any better.
But no weapons have been engaged in battle here. That would give two a whole new dimension.
Oh, poor you. Seriously. It can suck. Two is generally good for us, but we definitely have our - moments.
Like last night when bedtime took TWO HOURS, which had been preceeded by another two hours of totally miserable two-year-oldness. But at least Chris has not taught her how to roundhouse or drop kick.
Are you getting enough park time? Oh The Joys wrote recently that her favourite toddler game was called 'RUN! AS FAST AS YOU CAN!' we play that game on days like yesterday.
You so make me look forward to children MB... which is why last night just before the *ahem* Bow Chicka Wow Wow - I made sure to take that little pill... which of course made my hubs say "we can't make a baby if you keep taking that stuff" - he totally misses the point here... FEBRUARY!!! :)
XOXO
Yeah, pass a can of that sense o' humour this way. One is fantastic right now, what with the bellowing/screeching in my face as she can't figure out what it is that she wants to do.
I'm convinced that between the ages of, oh, say birth to 18 years that there might, might be six days total that don't cause you to totally pull your hair out in frustration.
Or perhaps that's just my own bad day shining through like a bright and optimistic beacon. Ahem.
Been there x4, and frankly, I will agree with other commenters, 3 is far worse...yeah...much worse!
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