|Warning: Child is louder than she appears.|
But in my defense, I always do it with an affectionate voice (Who's Mommy's little monster? That's right, Adriannabookins is Mommy's little monster!) and, usually, monster is a big improvement over the word I was actually thinking at the time.
See, I had almost forgot why parenting a two year old is so often referred to as "The Terrible Twos".
And then Adrianna turned two.
And reminded me how they suddenly go from sweet adorable little babies into these possessed writhing cretins whose sole purpose in life is to make you miserable.
First comes the perfection of the floppy noodle technique. Sporadically your child will go from complaisantly walking along holding onto your hand to being completely limp and refusing to do anything but lay on the floor. Your choices for handling the situation are to either pick them up and carry them the rest of the way (not fun when very pregnant, holding an armful of groceries, or also wrangling other children) or drag them along to wherever you were going in the first place (and ignore judgmental stares at your horrible parenting skills). I suppose some might be inclined to try the talking approach, and run the gamut between begging, bribing, and threatening to try and get the stubborn little demon to move on her own accord again. All I can say is, good luck, and hopefully they picked a convenient place to hang out for a while and not, say, in the middle of the Walmart parking lot during a pouring rainstorm.
|Warning: Child is floppier than she appears.|
Then comes defiance. Adrianna has taken to spitting at you if you tell her no about something. And it's the sort of tactic that really makes me want to smack her sassy little self. I distinctly remember it being an equally big problem when Kristina was two as well (now that Adrianna's doing it, somehow I had forgotten about it before.....), and take some slight comfort knowing that one child already did (eventually) outgrow it.
|Warning: Child is sassier than she appears.|
I know some people (mostly the really crazy ones, like my old roommate Cassi who just got a job at a daycare and has been gushing about how much she adores 2 year olds) really enjoy this age. Personally, I'm greatly looking forward to that mythical time in a few years when Adrianna will be where Kristina is and Kristina will be practically ready to move out (or like, 7) and we will be well past the end of the babyhood.
However sad passing the last of the baby milestones may be, I think the independent restroom skills and ability to have rational conversations about things just might be worth it.
(Potty training here we come!!)