terrorist toddler

The StoryToddlers

#OMGToddlers

by Jill
written by Jill

It’s a theory I’ve long since held: The cuter the toddler, the more challenging the toddler. I even made this handy chart to explain it visually when Kendall was 2.

Leyna is INSANELY CUTE, if I do say so myself. Here’s some evidence in the form of a short video in which she says hi, bye, gives me kisses, and squeals like a 12 year old at a Bieber concert.

Holy crap, how scary do I look there?! Sorta like a Synchronized Swimmer.

So obviously you can tell that she is also OMG so challenging.

Let’s break to discuss how HORRIBLE my phone pics are because I’m STILL using a 3GS with a mysterious black scratch (?) on the lens. COME ON NEW IPHONE ANNOUNCEMENT. But if you want to play “find the black scratch!” you can always follow me on Instagram.

That picture was taken in the midst of a meltdown that followed her standing in front of the refrigerator, pounding the door, shouting, “HAND! HAND!! I WAN DAT!” Because I am mother of the year and sometimes bribe my kids with clouds of Reddi-wip sprayed into the palm of their hands. I told her no, not because I was above giving her some for breakfast, but because I’d already filled her chubby little palm with whipped cream once before 10 a.m.

The tantrum lasted at least 5 minutes. She probably burned off all the calories and sugar from the whipped cream, so at least there’s that.

#OMGToddlers

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ParenthoodThe Story

Raise Your Glass If You Feel Me

by Jill
written by Jill

There is no way to win from the hours of 5-8 (or midnight? depending on when the hellion finally passes out) when it comes to toddlers.

Am I right?

If we let (force? maybe sometimes lock him in his room… I kid… sort of) him take a nap, he wakes up spitting fire and walks out of his room with his head spinning. It doesn’t stop until 6:30ish when he’s then taken over by the energy of a thousand monkeys on amphetamines until we, once again, make him go to bed, hopefully, before daylight the next morning.

If we skip that nap, he’s moody, sullen, angry, and basically a teenager 10 years too early for about 3 hours before, per usual, the monkeys take over.

The upside to the nap-taking route is the 2.5 hours of peace I get in the afternoon.

The upside to the no-nap-taking is the passing out before midnight part.

Either way, though, there is no winning between the hours of 5 and bedtime. None.

And that, my friends, is why there is HAPPY HOUR.

::This is the sound of me opening a beer. Cheers!::

Kendall is 3 years 4.5 months and Leyna is nearly 9 months old, and I love Shiner Bock.

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The StoryToddlers

The Post So Many Have Been Waiting For

by Jill
written by Jill

An update on the terrorist…

Listen, I really hate to even type this out FOR FEAR I JINX IT.

But, for you all, I will because I owe it to you.

And because I can’t have you all thinking my kid is perpetually terrible.

I’m not saying he’s fully reformed, but I think I shall now classify him as a “happy boy with mild terroristic tendencies” (even though they can be acute at times.) <<<I typed that in a very quiet whisper.

I don’t know what it is. I don’t know what caused the change. I’d like to tell you all it’s because I was a terrific counter, and I controlled my temper, and I modeled perfect behavior. I wasn’t, I didn’t, I don’t.

I think the change in him comes from a lot of things:

From me, it was an effort on my part to cut him some slack, recognizing that he can sense my frustration and trying to eliminate unnecessarily frustrating situations (which is incredibly hard when I’m writing on a deadline and he’s home from school for summer vacation), and working REALLY HARD at rewarding his positive behavior.

From him, and this is the big one, I think it was just time and growth. The kid has grown up this summer. He has actual conversations with us. Ones that involve sentences like, “Sometimes I get really mad when I can’t play golf in the house.” Ones that we can then, in turn, explain, “I’m sorry that makes you mad, but sometimes it’s not okay to play golf in the house. We’ll have to find more time to play it outdoors when it cools off.” And it’s almost like he gets it.

But I think the biggest thing that’s lead to this change is giving him acceptable outlets to let off steam. He played t-ball this summer, and he plays Wii Sports and Wii Sports Resort every. single. day. I do not feel one fraction of an ounce of guilt over that. It was 100+ for 41 days in a row here. That Wii has been a sanity-saver this summer. (It was given to me, I have to disclose that I’m a Nintendo Ambassador, but I genuinely love that thing for this very reason.)

And yes, most of the time we let him play golf in the house.

Kendall is 3 years 3.5 months and Leyna is 7.5 months old.

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The StoryToddlers

The Importance of Being Cute

by Jill
written by Jill

As a mother of a 2 year old, when people say things to me like, “Isn’t this such a special time?” or, “These are the days you’ll really miss,” my gut reaction is to want to punch them in the teeth. Okay, but then I get over that and I forgive them, knowing that this is a prime example of the brilliance of the human species- the ability to forget the grief and torture involved in bringing a life into this world and raising it to adulthood, the memory lapse that makes room for only the fuzzy, warm feelings when looking back. I also refer to this as momnesia (or dadnesia).

It is what has allowed me to succumb to creating and incubating a 2nd fetus with every intention of birthing it the same way I did the first– with no pain medication. Enough time has passed that I can’t recall the exact burning sensation of the “ring of fire” or the particular pain of the pressure of what felt like a semi truck driving through my spine. All I remember is the warm, fuzzy feeling I felt after delivering him, and deep down, for whatever reason, I classify the whole ordeal in my brain under “good experience.” So I do try to restrain myself when well-meaning people (who have been there, raised that) suggest that I’m maybe not cherishing this time with my son enough, when they infer that I might, someday soon, “miss this.” (Also, LOL at all the sweet people who have suggested that perhaps my temperamental son, who is not running a fever, nor displaying a runny nose, cough, rash, limp or anything else to make me suspect he is ill, is merely under the weather. People, if I could vaccinate against the Tyrannical Twos, I would.)

Admittedly, there are days that can not come to an end fast enough lately. I’m not doing such a great job at the whole “be happy for this moment, this moment is your life” thing, but I’m trying, I really am. The thing is, this moment? My life? A little bit harder to be happy for while entirely sober and pregnant. Clearly, I didn’t think through the whole raising-a-2-year-old-whilst-pregnant thing enough. My husband asked me at the end of the night last night, after his 2nd beer, why Kendall was stressing me out so bad. I wanted to break the Budlight bottle over his slightly buzzed head. I’m not saying I need a flask to get through the day, but it would be a lot easier to unwind from the tyranny of a 2 year old with a glass of wine in hand.

I can’t say, though, that this time is entirely without it’s perks because he IS undeniably cute and funny, and blows me away with all the new things he’s learning and saying and doing. He counts to 14 and sings “Itsy Bitsy Spider” with coordinating hand gestures. He refers to me as “momma-baby” when he really wants things from me now, like addressing both inhabitants of my body will work in his favor to get that cookie he’s been begging for. When we announced to him that he would be getting a baby sister, he looked up and innocently asked “where da brudder go?”  Sooo…. guess he was hoping it was a boy. He lives to run after things (read: pets) and screams, “I chase you! I catch you!” and then tackles them with big hugs and kisses. And he cuddles… a lot lately.

He styles himself and plays a mean keyboard. Look out Elton John!

Part of me is quick to attribute this attitude change as of late to him being, well, you know, TWO. He’s all about pushing boundaries, pressing buttons, testing my patience. I hear this is common at this age, right?? Also, he has the mood swings of a 14 year old girl. “Don’t look at me! Wait… look at me but only to give me that cookie. NO! Not THAT cookie!! The OTHER cookie! OHMYGOD the cookie is DISGUSTING!! What did you do to the cookie? Wait, wait, don’t walk away. I’m smiling!! See!! PLEASE! I want another cookie. NO! You can’t do anything right. Wrong cookie again! I’m going TO DIE!!! I’m going to lay on the floor right here and die. It’s all your fault.” <<It is a DAMN good thing he is so undeniably cute in between level 10 meltdowns.

I’ve come to the conclusion that the level of cuteness increases as the level of toddler terrorism increases. I demonstrate my theory in the line chart below:
Toddler Cute compared to Toddler Terror

Again, another example of the brilliance of the human species- to make tiny toddler terrorists simultaneously adorable and hilarious so as to ensure the propagation of the species and prevent massive toddler abandonment at the nearest Walmart.

Now, another part of me really wonders how much of this has to do with the pregnancy. Maybe it’s just me trying to “diagnose” something that might be triggering these incessant meltdowns, but I can’t help but think that all this really started flaring up around the time I started showing… and picking him up less. I really don’t pick him up nearly as much as I used to. Well, for one, he’s HUGE. I mean, pregnant or not, carting around a 37 lb toddler was not going to work forever. Then, yeah, I just can’t do it that much anymore, being pregnant and all. And even if I can now, to a degree, I know I won’t be able to much longer. I’ve been trying to slowly wean him from all the picking up, despite his adorable and heart-breaking pleas to “pick-y up, mommy!” As I mentioned earlier, he’s been quite the cuddle bug lately, which is pretty out of character for him. He loves to sit on my lap whenever he gets the chance. Do you think this is all related? Have you been through anything similar with your child? How did you handle it?

I’ve been trying to spend more one-on-one time with him (while simultaneously trying to keep my head from exploding), and, of course, I’ve let him sit on my lap whenever possible. I even tried to take a nap with him today, thinking it might be nice to have some snuggle time, but that wound up to be a giant wrestling match that produced no sleeping.

Either way, whatever the reason, he IS cute and I DO love him so, so much, but holy hell, he is a straight up toddler terrorist these days, like the epitome of the “terrible twos,” I tell you. I wish I was alone, sort of, but I know I’m not… and I’m sorry for you if you’re dealing with this, too.

Kendall is 2 (I guess we covered that) and I’m…. losing track of how pregnant I am… 19 weeks-ish, I think?

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The StoryToddlers

I knew this was coming

by Jill
written by Jill

The Terrorist Terrible Twos are here. Kendall is a full blown toddler who spends his days screaming, whining, screeching, flailing, biting and hitting (the biting and hitting have only been inflicted on me, so far). I’d seen shades of this before we left for DC last week, but it matured and bloomed, transforming my sweet child into a frustrated animal, the moment we arrived at the hotel.

I thought, perhaps, his behavior was so… animalistic because he was frustrated with our situation, he was annoyed with being in the hotel, or he was thrown off by the slight time change and disruption to his daily routine. I wondered if maybe I was just feeling his actions were so intense because we seemed to be under a microscope while traveling, afraid of burdening others with my loud and frustrated child.  Whatever the reason, the catalyst for this sudden development, it was pretty awful to adjust to and deal with in the confines of a hotel and a town center that caters to business professionals.

It seemed there was no appropriate place to escape. He didn’t want to be in the room, nor did I, but he refused to listen to me when I took him outside, insisting on running into streets and parking lots and toward water features in 55 degree weather.  He was minimally content in his stroller if I was pushing him around outside, but the moment I stepped into a store he began screeching, squealing and screaming, writhing in his stroller and pounding his legs.

We tried eating out a time or two, but were so embarrassed by his behavior, we felt like we had to shovel food in our mouths to get out of there before he combusted. We spent the rest of the week ordering take out. We tried to get together with a friend and her son, same age, and he showed off his super awesome new attitude by slapping me on the face in front of them. No idea where the hell he even got the idea to slap someone on the face. I assure you that’s not something he’s seen around here.

Wednesday night I took a much needed mommy timeout and left Scott and Kendall in the hotel room with takeout so I could escape for a couple hours, but that only did so much. By Friday I was a wreck. The whole week left me beaten down and lacking confidence. I had completely lost control of my son, and it felt like everything I did to redirect, distract and correct him only made the situation worse. I tried timeouts, I tried the caveman speak (toddlerease), I tried affirming his feelings, I tried not to lose my mind, I tried not to scream at him, I tried not to say NO every other minute of the day. Mostly, I tried not to cry.

We’ve been home for two days now, and the behavior hasn’t gone away. The only thing that has changed is my willingness to ignore his screams in the comfort of my home that doesn’t share a wall with anyone.  He bit me yesterday, and tried to do it again today. The first words out of my mouth, before I could even censor what I would say, were “If you bite me, I will rip your brains out.” W.T.F? It was such a gut reaction.

I found out about the Love and Logic approach today and am really intrigued. Something tells me this approach would discourage empty threats of removing vital organs as a form of discipline. There is a seminar down our way in a few months, which I wish was tomorrow, but in the meantime I will try to get my hands on the book.

In fact, I’m hoping to do a lot of research and work this week on how to get through this stage. I won’t be able to do it on the internet, though. I’ll have to go back to the good old days of researching stuff in a library or the book store, or just spending time on the phone with women who know their stuff.

Starting tomorrow, I’m taking part in a little social experiment where I will give up the internet for 5-7 days (except for the work I need to do to finish fundraising for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society).  I can’t say much more about it, but will be sure to blog all the details when I’m allowed back into the World Wide Web.  I’m actually really looking forward to this. Sometimes I wonder how much my connection to my computer and the people on the other side of it has affected my connection to the people I see, face to face, every day.  Sometimes I wonder how much of an effect it has on me as a parent.

Here’s hoping, if anything, this week will at least help me figure out a more appropriate thing to say to my son as he comes at me, mouth wide open, flashing his canines.

Kendall is one week shy of 18 months old

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