Earlier this week I was talking with a few other moms at school. Somehow the subject came up and we unanimously agreed if our last child had been our first, we would only have 1 child. I don’t know what it is about that last one, but man oh man, it seems I’m not the only one. Now when that youngest child is also a two-year-old toddler: you’ve got a recipe for disaster.
Being two is hard. You’re new to the toddler stage, trying to do things on your own, figure out what’s right and wrong, and how to express yourself. As a mom, I know this. But I also know it’s really hard to be a toddler mom too. We’re less than 2 months in to the terrible twos and my days are often filled with a toddler who has taken a liking to spitting, hitting, sh*tting on the floor, and added “never!” to her favorite word repertoire. I’m honestly not sure how I’m going to survive. And this ain’t my first rodeo – lest not forget – she is my FOURTH child. I should be a pro by now. Cue L.C.S.: Last Child Syndrome. This is the only thing that makes sense. And yes, I made it up. It’s how I reconcile this daily “sass” with the adorable little girl who declares “I wuv you SHO MUCH” and so sweetly sings the “I love you, you love me, we’re happy famuhwee” Barney song. The same one who makes my heart split in two when she cries is going to give me ALL.THE.GRAY.HAIRS. If I live that long. She’s giving me a run for my money, and as I’ve previously established – I. Don’t. Run.
Earlier this week, she insisted on wearing only one shoe at her brother’s baseball game. For all I tried, she absolutely refused to put on her other shoe. So she walked around the dugout and lawn with one shoe and one bare foot. Later that day, at a different baseball game, she decided not to wear a shirt. The only reason she wasn’t a complete spectacle is because my friend sat her on her lap and wrapped her in a blanket. Pick your battles, they say.
Yesterday we decided to take the whole family to see the new Aladdin movie. In the middle of the movie, Tenley decided she wanted “white miiiilk!” and she thought everyone there should know. I tried to calm her down and wrestle her back onto my lap. She got frustrated and head butted me so hard in the nose, I’m still not sure she didn’t break it. All I’m sayin’ is I heard a crack, my nose was numb for a solid 15 minutes, and I can both feel and see a slight bump on one side. Her head really packs some power y’all.
Fast forward to today. I went to a friends’ before volunteering at school and we decided to take a walk. We came across a garage sale, so I let the girls venture out of the stroller. She absolutely refused to get buckled back in. I finally resorted to calling Jon on speakerphone. After a stern, yet still not yelling, “TENLEY. SIT. DOWN” she sat down like it was her idea all along. And yes, I realize this is totally ridiculous and mildly embarrassing, but hey, it worked. After our walk, I left the girls with my friend to head into school. When I got back, Aubrey was quick to tattle, that Tenley had said a naughty word. After a short inquiry with my friend, I learned Tenley called her an asshole (repeatedly, actually) and hit her when she put her in a time out. Y’all – I GIVE.
I’m currently sitting on my back porch after throwing in the towel on naptime. She’s upstairs playing by herself in her room and at this point, that’s good enough for me. Honestly, I consider it a win that she yelled down that she pooped IN her pull-up. I was more than happy to change her and let her keep playing with her kitchen. If only she could actually prepare our dinner up there, I’d really have a good thing going.
It’s a phase, I know. And she’s testing the waters. I’m the one drowning, in case that’s not clear. The other day at the dentist, the assistant informed me if she was chewing on stuff and a little crabby lately, it’s because her molar is coming in. Somehow I don’t think that’s what’s making her sh*t on the floor, but who can really say?!
If you happen to be one of those moms that never had a terrible toddler - I commend you. And I also hate you. If you’re a toddler mom, God Bless You. And find yourself a friend who gets you. One who doesn’t get mad or embarrass you when your kid misbehaves while in her care. Preferably one that knows you’re joking when you state you’re going to add vodka to your tea before baseball, but still asks if you did when you meet her there. If you have toddler mom friends: check on them – we are not okay. But we will be. In 10 years or less. We hope.