My third child is smack bang in the midst of the ‘terrible twos’. I’m not afraid to say it, parenting toddlers is fricken hard! I feel like I’m walking on egg shells.
- I have to be careful what I say- if I mention a possible trip to the park today I better damn well make sure that trip to the park eventuates.
- I have to hide the ‘good’ food- no longer can I console myself with a sneaky biscuit. That little bugger has worked out what that crinkling sound is when I open a packet of chips or chocolate, and that sound when you take the lid off the cookie jar. In fact if she hears the pantry or fridge door open she is front and centre.
- When I ask questions like “would you like to use the scooter before I put it away?”, I have to hang around a minute after she says no in case she has decided 10 seconds later that she’s changed her mind.. which turns into a wail “I waaaant my scooooter, waaa haaa haaaa”.
- Her favourite colour of today may not be the same as yesterday. The shoes she liked yesterday may not be acceptable today. The food she so enjoyed yesterday may feel like poison in here mouth today.. and so on.
- If she wants a bandaid, get that kid a bandaid!
- My bed is no longer my own. Neither is my shower, my waterbottle, my slice of cake, my seat, my personal space, etc.
- A quick trip to the supermarket does not exist- the person responsible for strategically placing those coin operated rides inside the entry of every shopping centre… I hate you.
- I have learnt that the colour of the cup is important. So is the shape you cut their sandwich, and the picture on the front of their undies/pyjamas/shirt/spoon/drink bottle/shoes etc.
And to make sure that the wrath of the ‘terrible twos’ is really felt, they want to spend ALL their time with you… ALL their time.