Ain’t We Got Fun

Remember when you’re first child started in with the Terrible Twos? And you were beside yourself? It just broke your heart to see her crying and screaming and writhing around on the floor. At first you would try to reason with her calmly and rationally as if she were 32. Explaining to her how you were so sorry but it just wasn’t safe for her to play with a steak knife or put a battery in her mouth. You told her how you’d love nothing more than to feed her cookies for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Then somewhere – from a friend or online or television – you discovered you were supposed to distract your child. Get that little mind off the bad stuff and on to something good! So you’d shake stuffed dogs in her little face, sing songs, attempt to read her a book or just point out the window and say very animatedly, “Look! What’s that?!” and hope she’d she something that would keep her attention.

Then you had your second child and you knew better (how did we ever think we could reason with a 2 year old?) than to try to explain why she couldn’t do something. Instead, when she started to pitch a fit, you started right in with distracting her. And this would work. Up to a point. And then you’d call in the first kid to really help distract her. Hopefully, this worked long enough for you to get out of the store without too much embarrassment or to get dinner going.

Now that you have a third deep in the throes of the Terrible Twos? Well, you don’t really give a rat’s ass. At least if you’re like me. I’m usually plucking her little hands off my clothes and telling her “No!” very firmly. Maybe even telling her to go watch Big Bird and get over it. My heart doesn’t break at the tears any longer. You’re upset you can’t have a diet coke? Yeah, well try going without alcohol for nine months! The only nine months in your life when you really could use a drink!  I’ve got a house to clean! A blog to write! Crops to harvest! I don’t really care that you are beside yourself because Elefun needs batteries. You will just have to chill and let mommy finish doing what she’s doing.

And you know what? Sometimes she plops her sad little self right down beside me and just wails. It doesn’t even make me flinch. Nothing. It’s not that I don’t love her just as much as those other two monekys. Because I do (sometimes I think I might love her just a tiny bit more.The baby and all that), but I know she is fine. I’ve learned that this is just the toddler way of telling me to fuck off and that I don’t know anything and why can’t she do anything!? So it just slides right off my back. And guess what? She cried a minute. Maybe 2, tops. And then she picks herself up and toddles off. Happy as a clam at high tide. Until the next meltdown.