Oh No! Here We Go Again…

Whoever said two’s were “terrible” were liars! I’d take two’s back any day. Terrible 3’s is more like it. (Okay – call it “Terrific 3’s” if we’re gonna be all PC about it.) In our house, it’s beginning again. We have a 2 1/2 year old and she’s got the full on 3’s. Bring on the tantrums, being inconsolable, and downright defiant with the “No!” Argh!

Yes, I do know it’s a stage. Yes, this too shall pass. I get all that. I even somewhat get that I’ll “miss this part of raising kids”; so says the random lady witnessing one of the catastrophic end-of-the-world meltdowns that transpired today. I’m not certain I believe her though. I don’t miss this phase with my son…and he’s barely out of it.

Here’s how our day went: (because I know you want to live vicariously through me!)

Not only are we at the tail end of moving and beating back the sea of boxes, we have regular life (i.e. post-op dental appointment) to deal with as well. In true form, Jake was shall we say “difficult” and put up a bit of a fight to let the doc look at his teeth. Then there was the having to say “goodbye” to the toys at the office upon completion of the check-up. One of them would be ready to go, then the other would be digging in heels. I had visions of doing the sideways-carry-to-the-car I’ve employed before. Luckily, bribery was working today and the carrot on the end of the stick was a lunch date at Red Robin. (Oh, the days when I was a “good parent” and NEVER would have used bribery! You know, before I had kids!)

Finally in the car, everyone is in, has buckled his or her OWN buckle, and closed his and her OWN door and coats are on (or off depending on the current preference) – off we go to grab some lunch. Or at least to the restaurant’s parking lot before the next meltdown needs averting. Grab my cape, tie it on and voila! SUPER MOM to crisis management:

Jake climbing out of the car: “Mom, I don’t wanna wear my coooooaaatt! (yes, that would be the sound of whining).

Me (internally trying to take a deep breath and not lose patience): “Jake. It’s very cold. You have to wear a coat. Once we get inside, you can take it off.”

Back and forth. He then tries to negotiate with me to just hold it, or just hang the hood on his head and not put his arms in the sleeves.

Really?! By this time – we could have been in the joint ordering some food.

Me: “You have two choices: put your coat on or get back in the car and we will go home for lunch.”

When that did the trick, lunch went pretty smoothly, except for the first 10 minutes where he wouldn’t talk to us in an attempt to clearly express his displeasure having been made to wear his coat. After lunch we head home. I had the genius (I’ll use that term loosely) idea to go to the playground. A little energy burn and some cold fresh air would do us all some good.

Off we go riding bikes, dodging some scary looking dogs, looking both ways to cross streets and wiping the wind-induced snot from noses. Finally we arrive! YAY! Let the chasing, swinging, and getting out the sillies commence! And it did. For about 15 minutes. Then they decide to do the seesaw.

After I get Hannah on, Jacob on and pulling them up and down, Jake somehow manages to bounce off and bust his lip. Blood is gushing everywhere, snot flying, tears flowing…okay – I give up. It’s time to go home. Only, Hannah couldn’t give a rip if Jake is hurt or not – she wants to PLAY. And loudly. Jake is in the lead with his bike, riding slowly. I’m walking behind him and Hannah (bringing up the rear of this hot mess of a parade) is simultaneously throwing a fit, pedaling a trike, and screaming, “I WANNA PLAAAAAAYYYYYY at the PLAYYYYPARRRRRK!”

All. The. Way. To. Our. House.

What a way to make friends in our new neighborhood, right? At one point, we are at a busy corner, Jake is (thankfully) waiting patiently while I pry Hannah off of the road where she is now laying down kicking and screaming. And a car is coming. Awesome. Luckily the car does see the situation and doesn’t impale my daughter. I get Hannah’s attention and pick her up to cross the street, set her down and she promptly resumes said fit. I walk on.

Now she has worn her little self out and is sleeping peacefully and Jake and I are watching his current favorite Mighty Machines! I see a glass of wine in my future and a prayer that my sweet, funny little girl will wake up and be her normal self in a short while.

Or maybe she’ll down for the night.

A mother can hope, right?

Nope…she’s up. Time to re-fasten my cape….

Supergirl (Photo credit: levork)

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