The terrible two’s…

Welcome to hell, folks.  We have officially entered the terrible two’s and it BLOWS!  I swear to you, it came out of nowhere, hit me like a GD ton of bricks!  And coincidentally, my toddler who refuses to speak, decided that now was the perfect time to start saying “NO!”  Weird, right?  For real, my days have been super duper sh*tty, and I really just need to vent.  I’m begging you all to listen…

Lincoln has honestly become a monster version of himself.  I was completely unprepared for this, as I am for most changes that occur around here, and I feel like all I do is yell at him.  It’s hard to be the bad guy…ALL DAMN DAY!  Why does parenting have to be so difficult!? {I know I know, I ain’t seen nothin’ yet…} BUT this is all I know so far, in this journey of parenthood, and it’s quickly climbing to the top of our “stressful times” list.

Here are just a few things that I have learned over the last few weeks…

1. Toddlers don’t negotiate.  Yes, I mean I blackmail my child, on the reg, or at least I attempt to.  Sadly, for me, it doesn’t work.  “Lincoln, if you eat your chicken nugget, you can have dessert!” {Insert toddler launching a chicken nugget across the room, and then staring me dead in the eyes, letting me know that he gives ZERO f*cks about the possibility of dessert.}  I swear if he knew how to flip the bird, he would.
2. Can you say, dead weight? How is it possible that a 32lb child can feel like a 400lb sack of potatoes, in the blink of an eye?  And why does this always happen right before bath time?  For a child who doesn’t speak, he sure knows how to get the message across.  I get it Lincoln, you think I’m an a**hole for making you take a bath.  Noted.
3. Never trust them, EVER! I ask, every, single, time, “Lincoln, are you sure you want me to cut your sandwich,” to which he responds with a smile and vigorous nod.  So I cut the freaking sandwich.  Cue the pissed toddler.  I kid you not, he thrashes his body around, while slapping himself in the face, and occasionally attempting to bite his fingers off.  {Should I tell him that NONE of those things make me feel bad about cutting his sandwich?}  Oh, don’t cut it, ya say?  Why didn’t I think of that?  I did, obviously. What happens when I don’t cut it, you ask?  It becomes a pile of mush, between two pudgy toddler hands, and then gets fed to the dog.

I would love to be that optimistic mom who talks about how I know these hard times won’t last, that I should soak it all in, because before I know it, he’ll be in kindergarten…blah blah blah.  Let’s get real.  I’m the definition of pessimistic, and I’m proud of it!  I am not ashamed to admit that I am much more confident and comfortable with the 0-12 month stage of childhood, than I am with the 2-3 year age range.  I’m MORE than ready for this BS to stop, while still understanding that we are just in the beginning stages.  Also…any fellow toddler moms want to start a daily weekly wine night?  You know where to find me.