Two

There are some days as a mom when I wish I had a Paying Job to go to, where I could leave whining and tantrums and messes and poop and futility behind for a few hours (at least, that's the fantasy). We all know why the Terrible Twos are called that, and that Three is worse than Two in some respects. I will also admit that my daughter is easier than my son was at this age, but sometimes I wish we could skip right to Six.

My daughter kept asking me today if I was mad.  Well, yes, there were several times I was mad today.  For instance, when I got out of the shower to find that, while taking care of her own breakfast, Annika decided that she didn't want any more yogurt to go with her agave nectar, she would just have the agave nectar plain.  She ate half the bottle.  At least she used a bowl and spoon.

Then she would not choose any pants or shirt to wear.  She wanted to go naked.  She didn't want to wear underwear or a diaper.  I managed to compromise with her and let her go around in a diaper until it was time to take Gabriel to school.  A bit later she decided she wanted to go outside to see the airplane flying over.  Temps were in the 30's .  I told her she wasn't dressed and she couldn't go outside.  Her response:  I'll get my blankie to keep me warm!  And rubber boots!  Well, that didn't last long.

Lunch is always interesting, because she only wants PB&J, and she wants to make it herself.  I opened a brand new jar of peanut butter, and as I was messily stirring the oil into it, she stuck her whole hand in the jar and grabbed a handful.  Oil was dripping off her fingers all over.  I hastily reached for a wash cloth, but I wasn't quick enough.  She wiped it off on her clothes.  Nice.  That's going to leave a stain.

She wouldn't take a nap.  She fought with her brother.  She pooped in the tub during her bath.  She pooped at the Dr's office, immediately after she denied needing to go poop.  She dumped all the crayons out of the box and colored in one of Gabriel's books.  She doesn't want to wear a diaper but won't go potty in the toilet so she can wear underwear.  She wants to wear her backpack to take Gabriel to school, but then hands it to me to carry after only a minute or so.  She won't wear her hat on a cold morning, but heaven forbid I should try to leave it at home - I'll hear about it then! 

It can be so lonely and demoralizing being a mom.  Some days feel like I'm in a battle zone, in the trenches, trying madly to keep my sanity.  Or that I'm walking on eggshells, hoping beyond hope to avoid a confrontation because I just don't have the energy to fight her.  Not all days are like this, of course, and I am trying to learn to not take things so personally.  I think I've relaxed a bit since I went through this stage with Gabriel, and I notice more little moments to enjoy along the way.  I've learned a thing or two in the past few years, like validating emotions, letting her have appropriate choices and deal with the consequences, and even how to take care of myself.  But I still hope tomorrow will be better.