My little person is two. I should say: My little person is TWO! I'm up to my eye balls in it. Every where I look, he's TWO. Two is tough. Two is exhausting. Two is frustrating. Two is stressful. I'm over two. Here is a typical day in the life of a Mom of Two.
Not wanting to take Christmas pictures.
I wake up about 15 minutes early to get myself together before going in to wake up my guy. He grumbles at me, complains he doesn't want to get out of bed, demands to be held a particular way (it varies), and finally departs from his bed. We take off his diaper and this where the fun begins. I tell him what we are going to do today. I like him to be prepared for what's coming.
Sleeping Beauty
I go brush my teeth and tell him to come in when he's ready. He fusses and says "I don't want to brush my teeth". I walk away. He meanders into the bathroom and says: "UP!". I remind him to use his manners and he says: "up please". Now we fight the teeth brushing battle. He wants to turn on the water. He wants to help with the tooth paste. He wants to brush the window with his tooth brush. He does not want to give Momma a turn. He wants to lay down on the counter to brush his teeth. He wants to sit on the window sill to brush his teeth. He wants to brush the sink instead of his teeth. He wants, he wants, he wants, he wants! I have now spent the last 5 minutes attempting to get my son to brush his teeth and allow me to actually brush his teeth without having a melt down and a big mess. I'm just happy its over and I made it through without yelling.
Afterwards, I get dressed and tell him it is time to get dressed. At this point, he is either in my closet trying to open all of my drawers or yelling that he has to go potty as soon as I get undressed. He does his pee pee on the little potty and we excitedly flush it down the big potty (with him trying to do it himself and fussing because its a Momma job). He then complains about getting dressed. He doesn't want socks. He doesn't want pants. He wants the Batman shirt. No, he doesn't want the Batman shirt. He wants the Lightening McQueen shirt. He doesn't want to wear his sweatshirt. He wants to wear his pajamas again. Somehow, we manage to get dressed. It is now 30 minutes into our day. I'm beat!
Some days slippers are the deal maker
Mealtime have become quite the challenge in our house. My guy used to love to eat and polish off everything I gave him. Those days are long gone. I give him the option of pancakes or waffles. He wants pancakes. As I'm warming up his pancakes (I bake a big batch of whole wheat ones and freeze them), he comes in and starts crying because he wants waffles. I don't give in and tell him he can choose waffles next time. He has been playing in his playroom while I fix breakfast. There has been a lot of fussying and running into the kitchen because things aren't working how he wants them to. I remind him to use his words and ask for help. He says, "ASK?" in a question voice meaning he wants help. I remind him to say, "help me please." He mimics me and I stop every few minutes to help him and them repeat the process. Can we just eat already?! My son is required to clean up his toys before we eat, leave the house, or go to bed/nap. He screams. He tries to argue with me. He tells me no. He throws himself on the floor. I try to stay calm and tell him to pick up his toys. 15 minutes later he's crying and I'm yelling. Now, I immediately feel guilty for yelling. We still haven't eaten breakfast and its 8:30. Toys are put away and we eat. He wants to help put on the syrup. He wants to fling his fork everywhere. He doesn't want apple sauce. He starts fussing because the pancake won't stay on the fork. He wants me to do it. He does not want me to do it. He wants to lick his pancakes and drops it on the floor in the process. He cries because I throw that piece away. He eats two bites and says he's all done. Half way threw he insists he needs to go potty (even though I sat him on the potty right before we started eating). It is now 9:00. I'm finished eating. My two year old is trying to take his socks off at the table and turning his milk cup upside down to see how many drips he can get out before I correct him. Thank God its a gym day! By some sort of miracle I'm able to do the dishes and vacuum before we leave for the gym. Well, after he fusses about putting on his shoes, tries to run away while I'm getting his coat on, and insists he needs a stuffed animal to accompany him on the ride.
Yes, I cut shapes in his pancakes and he loves it.
We arrive at the gym and he runs ahead to Kidcare. MOMMY TIME! Yay, stress relief, mind numbing cardio, burning muscles and lots of sweat. Oh wait, they come to get me because he says he has to go potty (he didn't). I stop half way through my workout to take him to go potty as I always do. This whole potty thing is way too much work. Feeling better, I go to pick him up and he throws a fit. He screams, "five more minutes." I ask them to grab him (parents aren't allowed behind the entry gate). Away we go after I struggle to get his coat on again.
He insisted on wearing Daddy's hat.
My child hates to shop. He hates the grocery store, Target, Walmart, the mall, and just about anything that involves him sitting in a cart of stroller. Today, I have to stop by the grocery store on our way home. I occasionally allow him to push the mini cart around the store, but only when I need 3 or 4 things. Its a full time verbal diatribe when he gets the mini cart. He is hell on wheels and heaven help anything or anyone in his path. My son also strongly dislikes sitting with his legs out in front of him. He always pulls his feet into the seat of the cart with him. He then proceeds to take off his shoes. No matter how many times I correct him, he always does it. I continually put them back on him and tell him he has to wear them. By the third time, I'm so relieved to be heading towards the checkout.
Not loving the stroller
Once home I attempt to get him into the house without touching my husband's motorcycle (we have lost toys down the tailpipe) and take off his shoes, jacket, and pull-up. I unpack the groceries while he plays. Lunch is pretty much the same as breakfast. Eating meals is so over rated. I clean up my dishes and our quiet time begins. We play blocks, read books, do chores together (he likes to press the button on the washer), and pretty much do whatever he wants to occupy the next hour. Even this free time is full of tantrums and attitude. He gets so frustrated and fussy. We have 30min of TV time (usually Super Why or Mickey Mouse Clubhouse). He snuggles up with me under the blanket and watches his show while I read my book. Its one of my favorite parts of the day. The show ends and he freaks out. His latest trend is pushing me and telling me not to turn it off. I'm doing what I can to kick that new habit. He likes to press the buttons on the remote to turn off the TV, which I allow if he behaves properly. It is finally 2:00 and naptime. Thank you naptime. We potty, put on a diaper, pick to stuffed animals to sleep with, and he climbs into bed. My work here is done! At least for a few hours.
He loves the motorcycle
I know all of this is a lot of complaining and regular two year old behavior. I just don't know how other Mom's do it. I'm so exhausted from having the same arguments every day. Nothing has changed. I don't give in to him not brushing his teeth, eating, cleaning up, etc. The day is filled with dozens of little battles and that's just the planned things. Playdates, special trips, doctors appointments, or other occasional activities present their own problems.
Things are not all bad or I wouldn't still be a SAHM. I get to do exactly what I want to do for a living. I spend my day with my child. I get to teach him, watch him grow and learn, see him explore his world, and know that he's well taken care of. Sending him to full time daycare would break my heart. I would be in a constant state of worry (as I'm sure many working Mom's are). I love being the first person my son sees in the morning. I love being the one to fix him meals. I love being there in the moment to celebrate his accomplishments and encourage him to try things. I love seeing him smile when we do something fun. I love being the one he runs to when he's hurt or scared. I'm his Momma and I'm always here. He is confident that he can count on me to be there for him, to follow through with my words, and keep him safe. Nothing matters more to me than my son. Two is a hard age. I've heard three is even harder. I pray my consistency pays off one of these days. I can't even tell you what I would give to have him listen for an entire morning. Its a small wish from me, but a huge task for a two year old. One day I will be arguing with him over curfews, buying ridiculously expensive sneakers or game systems, going to parties, or who knows! I'll wish for these days when I could keep my baby safe with me and argue with him to clean up his toys. I'll wish I could make him smile by simply asking him if he wants to paint a picture or pretend to be dinosaurs. This is what I tell myself when days are hard. Sometimes it helps and others not so much. I love this crazy, stubborn, demanding, and creative little boy with all of my being (as I watch him nap on the monitor). I also love nap time!
He does have his moments!
