Up until now I thought that the worst parts of parenting a two year old were the constant temper tantrums, the significant lack of communication skills and the random hitting. I managed all of those bits. I came out reasonably unscathed. I’m a little dumber than when I went in, but so far I still have at least 2 brain cells to rub together. However, those last 2 cells are getting a run for their money. Nothing, I mean nothing, has prepared me for what we will refer to as teeth. Sure, by two most kids have the majority of their teeth. Parents of the home grown variety have been battling the teething thing for years by this point. Parents of the adopted variety get children with teeth already installed. Of course when the child is developmentally stunted all the teeth are not there yet. We’ve battled one year molars. I survived. But now… now we are facing the two year molars. Holy shit.
At 3:30 this afternoon I looked at the clock and wondered if it was ok to start drinking. My BIL (Uncle Nain) would tell me that if you are asking it is already too late. I had no clue that 2 year molars would be this bad. Of course in my house you have to couple cutting teeth with the added feature of “no.” Yep, the boy has learned the word no. It isn’t just any no though. It is this whiny and bossy, noooooo. Sometimes spoken but most often screamed.
Elle: Boy, are your teeth owee?
Boy: Nooooo! (coupled with a look as if to say, “bitch, stop asking me that”)
Elle: Would you like carrots or peas with dinner?
Boy: Nooooo! (meaning you can give me either, but no matter what you’ll be wearing them)
Elle: Boy, are you poo poo?
Boy: NOOOOO! (yes)
Elle: Get out of my flower bed right now.
Elle: I’ll show you no.
You get the picture.
Between the hours of 8:00 a.m. and 6:00 p.m. my child ate a banana. One banana. The second I set his lunch down in front of him he tried to chuck it at me. I removed the food and he proceeded to scream. That type of scream that is so loud that they almost make themselves throw up. I put him down for a nap. I seriously considered starting the drinking then.
With all the screaming and no saying I’ve kept my cool pretty well. I’ve been regularly taking a “med*” to help with the crazies. So far it seems to be working. I ran out today so you may want to be checking Ebay by the end of the week.
For Sale: Cute toe-headed toddler. Rubs chin and says, “I don’t know.” Likes Indian food the third Thursday of months ending in Q. Has an unnatural fascination with fans and toilets, but is afraid of public washrooms. Will charm the pants off of you my saying, “mung on mama.”
*Med meaning natural supplement of 5-HTP that is seratonin booster and seems to be working.