Like a switch, my sweet child has entered into the terrible twos. I call them the demon twos because she has developed this throaty screaming cry when she's pitching one of her new, Oscar worthy, tantrums. I half expect her to start saying red rum!
Tonight, her latest documented "episode" began at the end of bath time. She didn't want to get out of the tub but I tried to put on a happy face and lure her into her room by doing a little dance and singing a Wiggles song. While I stood there flailing around tooting and chugging to an imaginary "big red car" Ella, much like an angry puppy, stood looking at me with disdain and proceeded to pee on the carpet. Leaving the wet spot behind she took off running with her hoodie towel blowing in the breeze behind her. Once I got her up on the changing table she back arched so hard she nearly flung herself off the table and into the reading lamp.
It was about this time Matt entered the room with a horrified look on his face. Of course he must have thought I was beating her because of all the commotion.
So he tries to take over. She pulls away so hard she bangs her head on the wall. Finally he holds her while I blow dry her hair, she's screaming all the while. An attempt to brush her teeth almost put out everyones eyes.
Finally, a little rocking calmed her down. We put the baby dolls in their beds and she crawled into hers, quiet, peaceful and sucking her thumb.
I'm growing more convinced this stage of childhood is, instead of a developmental, test your boundaries, self-awareness phase, a psychotic break. That's it. My child is psycho. I'm not closing my eyes in the shower until she's 18.
1 comment:
The best part? There are 365 days between the second and third birthday!
At 2 years, 8 mos, Greta is a little calmer, but she can still pitch a fit that makes you feel like the worst parent in the world.
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