Today was exceptionally hard with Benson…well, honestly… the last six months with Benson have been rough but lately he’s gotten more difficult.
I don’t know about everyone else but I feel like a complete failure as a mom when my son is out of control. Like the whole world is staring at me and judging my parenting skills. I desperately NEED to know that other mommas out there are navigating the “terrible two’s” and crying themselves to sleep by the end of the night. We can all suffer through it together, don’t leave me hangin!
I AM that mom that totally let my son drink someone else’s gatorade at the soccer field because I was tired of chasing him down. I was tired of hearing that high pitched scream, and I was trying my best to get a few minutes of a decently behaved toddler while I watched Taytum practice. He picked the gatorade up and as I watched him out of the corner of my eye I saw him squatting down over the gatorade (not his) and more focused then ever he tried to unscrew it. I said “no no bubs, that’s not yours” and he stood up made a quick scream and pulled the gatorade in close to him.
He was either…… A) going to spill it everywhere in a fit to keep it
B) going to throw it at me (lid off and all)
C) drink it peacefully as though it was his own
Option C seemed the most logical.
I know you’re all judging me as you read this so I should have prefaced…I did know who the gatorade belonged too…they are our friends…and they also know my son…and the struggle…and hopefully they didn’t mind that he had a few sips, sharing is caring after all, and this mama just wanted ONE minute of peace.
But guys… THAT’S HOW DESPERATE I HAVE BECOME! Like one….minute…even if that means letting Benson drink gatorade that wasn’t his, without asking. Just for one minute of having a child who sits within close proximity to me so that I can multi task one other thing.
Today, I picked him up from our sweet friend who cares for Benson while I work to learn that he took his diaper off and peed on her floor (that’s really not too unusual for him) and hit her today…and squeeze his friend (his age) until she cried. I am sure there is more, only because I struggle daily with being hit when I say no or pick him up to remove him from a dangerous situation. He scratches me, squeezes me, hits me, drops to the floor, and cries for long periods of time when he doesn’t get his way.
Well, what is his way you might be wondering? Pop, gummy bear vitamins, chemical cleaning sprays, anything that goes in an outlet, and freedom. LOTS OF FREEDOM. Don’t interrupt him while he’s outside banging a tennis racket on the banister. Don’t interrupt him while he’s playing in the wood pile barefoot, don’t interrupt him while he’s playing with power tools or a fire poker stick. Anyway, you get it..the list goes on. When interrupting, use caution because you can and will get hit, scratched, or have a screaming toddler for what seems like endless amounts of time.
Anyway, I have no solution, and I make several apologies for everyone who suffers around us and I hope that in the coming months as his communication develops, and a routine can be established with a bit more boundaries the phase will pass. In the meantime I try to run him out of energy by utilizing parks and making play dates with friends. He usually cries the rest of the night (about 30 minutes before bedtime) and passes out at 8:15 pm nightly. At least there is bedtimes, right?
Feel free to comment below with your own “terrible two” stories to make me sleep a little easier tonight, and perhaps schedule a play date with us 😉
Rolling with Lemons 
Trust me you are not alone. While my Brandtley is only 15 months old i know all this fun stuff is gradually heading my way. I told their dad when I was pregnant with him. “It’s not the labor or the up all nights with a newborn that I can’t handle, I got that, it’s when he becomes a toddler is what I don’t think I can handle.” I still feel the same way. just the other day we had an orthopedic appointment for him. I spent most of our time waiting in the lobby actually chasing him down trying to feed him crackers and anything I can do to occupy his attention (he loves food). He mostly chewed the crackers spit them on the floor and stepped on them, he also threw the crackers on the floor stepped on them and the used his hands to sweep them every where. So I thought of a better idea, I have those “to-go” baby foods that have the twist off cap. While I thought it was a good idea, he did not. (I like to try to redirect him with something else he may like better then what he was originally doing, it doesn’t always work) He threw himself on the ground so hard and screamed I went to feed him the baby foods, the nurse called our name, and he squeezed the packet that it went everywhere. The floor. His shirt. His face. His hair. It was a terrible experience. Needless to say, it was great entertainment for everyone in the lobby with their judging eyes, and quite frankly I’ve learned to not care what they think. Just because other moms don’t talk about these things doesn’t mean they aren’t happening to them either. We are all in the same boat of frustration by the end of the night waiting for bedtime. You’re not alone, you got this. We all do.
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