Terrible Twos
It’s approximately a week before my son turns 2 years old, and I can safely say that the Terrible Twos have arrived already. For the last week or so life with Ryan has been punctuated with whining, yelling and irrational crying. Temper tantrums jump out of nowhere and he goes from happily playing with his lawnmower toy to screeching and flinging the annoying devil-toy across the living room in a split second. His hair-trigger temper is unpredictable and frustrating.
Another wonderful characteristic of the Terrible Twos is the dreaded Sleep Strike. Ryan recently went 4 days of sleeping less than 4 hours a night–and waking up screaming, “Momma? Tutti?” (yes, I’ll admit that my child is addicted to Yo Gabba Gabba) every 30 minutes. I envision a World War II Japanese prison camp to be comparable to watching dvr’d episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba with a wide-awake two year old at 3 am. And naps? Forget about it! Apparently sleep is for suckers in Terrible Twos Land. It gets to the point where as a parent you aren’t sure if you should sedate your child or yourself.
And, last, but certainly not least, the Terrible Twos bring on Picky Eating. Yesterday morning before I could clumsily fill my coffee pot with water Ryan was hysterically crying because he wanted a white chocolate macadamia nut cookie. As I tried to explain to him that cookies weren’t an option for breakfast, he threw himself to the floor, screeched like a rabid monkey and pulled open the drawer below the oven that held cookie sheets and muffin pans. He swiftly scattered the contents all over the kitchen floor.
I attempted to strike a bargain with him and offered him pancakes. Since I had some in the freezer, leftover from a batch I made the previous week, I opened up the freezer. Huge mistake! Ryan spotted a box of popsicles on the bottom shelf. The cookies were forgotten and Ryan now wanted POPSICLES for breakfast. Use your imagination as to how he reacted to my denying him an orange creamsicle at 7 am.
In addition to his sugar cravings, Ryan has also been playing a little game with food and he’s clearly honing his manipulating mom skills. He’ll say, “Hungry?!” and I’ll ask him what he’d like to eat. He grabs my hand, drags me to the pantry and starts scanning each shelf, saying in a pensive voice, “How ’bout….” He’ll then select something like goldfish crackers, pretzels or a can of garbanzo beans (I will try to talk him out of the garbanzo beans, but then a tantrum is sure to kick in that split second). So I grab one his bowls and pour him some of whatever it is that he’s begging for. He eats one, maybe two bites and then either dumps the contents onto the floor or chucks the bowl across the room, also resulting in the contents on the floor. I could vacuum 6 times a day and it still wouldn’t be enough to keep my carpet from looking like Bourbon Street after Mardi Gras.
Oh, the Terrible Twos! I don’t know how I’m going to survive.