Friday, September 14, 2012

No, No, No, NOOOOOO!!

It has begun. Little P has hit that point in her short little life where everything is a trial. Eating, getting dressed, even playing with her toys. These trials always end with her on the floor (not yet flailing her arms and legs around, although I am sure that will come with time) and with tears. Lots and lots of tears.

For a while there I thought it was just due to her being overtired. If she hadn't had a decent nap and she didn't get her way, it was on the floor and the tears would begin. But lately it seems that everything, and I mean everything, upsets her. 
'Do you want yogurt for breakfast?'...'No!!!' (and then the tears). 
'Do you want to go play?'....'No!! (and more tears). 
'What do you want to wear today?'... Just tears and laying on the floor. 


I swear, if Dante had another circle in hell that just contained toddlers having tantrums, people everywhere would be trying their darnedest to stay out of hell. This is so not my idea of a good time.

For example, today, for the short amount of time that Little P has been awake (oh, say 30 minutes) we have had a meltdown about wearing sunglasses (I apparently gave her the wrong one when she got up - diva), not wanting her diaper changed (major meltdown that stopped the minute she was on the floor with a dry diaper attached, somewhat precariously because she wouldn't stop moving) and her blanket being stuck in the crib (talk about the tragedy of the year). Of course, each of them were short lived, but I am already contemplating just crawling back into bed and letting M deal with it.
(Credit - Life with Our Lads)

Because of this, I've been researching this whole 'toddler' phase - reading the books we have, checking the forums online, reaching out to fellow Mommy-bloggers and talking to my Mommy friends. And the general consensus is, ride it out. It get's better, they say. If you are lucky, it will only be for a few months....if not, it could be a couple of years (Lord help me). It's just something they all go through, some worse than others. Hence the term 'terrible two's (and the 'even more terrible three's. Or the 'and you thought the 4's would be easy? Ha!').

Logically I know it's all part of being a parent, but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with, nor does it mean I like it.

I guess we just have to batten down the hatches, stockpile on food and weather the storm.


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