The sometimes Terrible, sometimes Terrific Twos

In some ways, kids get easier as they age. In other ways, they get more difficult. Each stage seems to bring with it new challenges. A friend told me that her very wise grandma used to refer to them as "the terrible twos, the treacherous threes, and the effin' fours". A wise woman, indeed. So, I guess this means it's not going to get any easier for a while?

Wyatt has plenty of endearing qualities, but he IS two, so with that comes testing boundaries, noisy unbridled behavior, stubbornness and an independent spirit. 

"No" seems to be his favorite word these days. It's the response I get for almost every suggestion and request I make, before he's really even had time to consider his options. ME: "Wyatt, it's time for lunch. Let's sit down". HIM: "No". ME: "Aren't you hungry?" HIM: "No". Ten seconds later, he's climbing up in his chair, ready to eat. He just prefers to think it was his idea. Interestingly enough, this is not only true for two year old boys, but for grown men as well. 

Last week, the lady from the church daycare came to let me know that Wyatt was very upset and couldn't be consoled. I suspected I knew what the problem was since he had some constipation issues for the past couple of days (don't worry, I won't bore you with details). Sure enough, I found him red faced and wailing. I got him a drink of water and tried to calm him down, taking him to sit with me out in the lobby. Imagine the looks and snickers we got when he began screaming "I poop! I poop! OWWWW! OW! Poop!" at the top of his lungs, despite my best efforts to shush him. Now I was the one red faced...  

Every time we go to the library, I swear it will be our last time. It's such a quiet and proper place, which seems to further amplify loud and inappropriate behavior. It's all I can do to madly scan through titles of children's books looking for ones I think Wyatt would like, while simultaneously keeping one eye on him lest he wander too far off. Heaven forbid he actually stand beside me like I asked. Last time we went, he was quietly keeping busy looking at books on the next shelf over. When I looked over to check on him, I found he had a good size stack of harlequin romance novels on the self check-out scanner. While I scrambled to return them to their correct location, he took off for the elevator. He ran on and began pushing buttons. Luckily, I raced in just before the doors closed and he went rocketing off to who knows where.

Recently, I had to take Wyatt with me for some routine pregnancy lab work I needed to have done. Of course, I would have preferred leaving him at home, but sometimes you just don't have a choice. He stayed right by my side and rifled through my purse while they drew a blood specimen. The nurse handed me a plastic cup and sent me into the bathroom, with Wyatt in tow, to collect a urine sample. Halfway through my midstream collection, I heard the telltale 'click' of the bathroom door unlocking (dang lever handles!) and saw the door swing open in slow motion. "Wyatt!!" I hissed, "Close the door RIGHT NOW!" I hovered in crouch mode with my pants around my ankles, waiting for him to bolt. It wasn't as if I could chase him, without spilling pee everywhere, at least. I would just have to cross my fingers he wouldn't make it far. Miraculously, he listened to me and actually remained in the bathroom and closed the door.  As I was leaving, the nurse said to me "Two is a tough age, isn't it?" You said it, sister. 

The hoo hoo song has turned out to be good leverage. "If you finish your dinner, we can listen to the hoo hoo song". "Let's put your coat on and mommy will play the hoo hoo song in the car". I'm sure there are plenty of parenting experts who would caution on the pitfalls of bribing your children, but sometimes, you just gotta do what you gotta do. 

He is getting quite attached to me lately, probably because we spend so much time together, cooped up indoors. He follows me around the house and even though he plays quite well by himself, he always likes to know I'm close by. Sometimes I try to sneak 

off when he's distracted, but it only takes him a few minutes to notice. I hear his little footsteps padding around "mama? weh ah you?"  I'll admit, sometimes I hide in the bathroom briefly, just to have a minute to myself. Seriously, is it too much to ask to have a minute to yourself during the day? It isn't long before I hear the handle jiggling, then the door flies opens and boy and dog come tumbling in. 

Despite our daily power struggles, I love my little guy with all my heart. Some day he will be a grown man and he'll no longer think Dayven and I are the coolest people on earth. He won't want to curl up on our laps for a story or snuggle in for a big hug and this breaks my heart, just a little. I try to remind myself of this when I'm counting the minutes until bedtime...