The 'T' Years

Yes, the 'T' years.  

And I know what you're thinking...T must stand for teenager.  Yeah, right.

Nope. Not. Nyet. NO.

It stands for Two and Three!

Yes, Two and Three.  Because O.M.G. I am going to lose my mind.

And actually the terrible twos only wished they could be as terrible as the Terrible, ill-Tempered, irriTable, wreTched, unforTunaTe, roTTen THREES.

The defiance.  The absolute refusal to do anything he's asked or told to do.  The looking at me and swatting me on the arm, leg or any body part he can find completely unprovoked most times (ie I haven't told him he can't do something or asked him to stop doing something or tried to punish him for something).  And then he tries to 'play off' the swatting (AKA HITTING) as a long rub!  Ummm no sir...I know hitting when I see and feel it!  

I tell him "It's time to go potty" (because I know I should not ask if he has to go).  He tells me "No thank you".  Geez...now what do I do.  It's been 1329 hours since he last peed, so I know he needs to go, but he chooses now to have manners!!  WTH????

Tonight at pick-up he was in a fabulous mood.  He has just gotten a sticker from the teacher for being the only kid out of more than 10 to pay attention and do as she asked (sing a song).  He proudly showed it off to me!  We walked towards the door.  He proceeded to run for the door and I have to tell him to not open the door.  He stopped and pouted, but didn't open the door.  He played a bit on the mats while I talked to another mom.  Then out of the blue he walks over to me and starts swiping at my legs.  Now maybe he was ready to go home, but this child can speak in paragraphs; he has memorized the entire book "The Cat in the Hat" including adding at the end the words "All rights reserved", so he could just tell me he was ready to go.  I told him to stop, grabbed him and put him against the wall and finished my conversation quickly. As we were leaving I noticed his sticker on the floor.  I told him to pick it up.  He shouted "NO!, I don't want it!"  I said pick it up and throw it away then.  "NO!"  I grabbed him, half dragged him over, made him pick it up, half dragged him to the trashcan and threw it away with him. He then pitched a fit about putting on his coat.  I wrestled him into it because I am NOT letting him not wear a jacket because he wants to be a pain in the ass.  He left with me crying and spitting mad.  He then refused to get in the car even after I got in and drove the car through the parking lot where he was crying and stomping around (he was safe...one of the teachers was right there watching for him for me...these ladies are amazing).  I loaded him into the car and he cried all the way home.  He stomped up the stairs and yelled that he wanted yogurt raisins.  Nope little boy.  More crying and mayhem.  I started preparing his dinner.  He then got up off the floor and calmly started playing in his kitchen.  Then he didn't want what I had made.  More tears and squawking.  I promised him an Oma and Opa cookie if he ate his dinner.  He acquiesced, but wanted me to sit beside him and hold his hand.  I was more than happy to do so.  He held my hand, laid against me every now and then and ate his dinner.  I let him sit and color while I cleaned up.  Like I always do, I told him I was going upstairs to get his bath ready and for him to color for one more minute then come upstairs.  He always complies.  I should have known that was too good to last more than 4 months!!!  Oh and I put his new favorite item, my pink travel pillow on the table with him and told him to bring it upstairs with him.  I got the water in the tub, cleaned up a bit and called for him surprised he wasn't already upstairs.  He started wailing!!!!  And shouting "I don't want the pillow!"

FORGET THE DAMN PILLOW (I said to myself).  To him I said 'Then leave it downstairs!!!!!'

He came up just boo-hooing!  What on earth?  Cried while I held him.  Cried while I peeled his clothes off.  Cried while I wrestled him into the tub.  Cried while I bathed him.  Cried while I took him out of the tub.  Cried while I lotioned him up and made him lie down to put on his pjs and overnight diaper.  Then laid on me and cried for a few minutes.

Then stood up, sniffed and said...

"I want the pillow."

O.M.G.

"Go get it then."

"Ok"

And off he went.

Back upstairs, grabbed a book off his bookshelf, sat down on the bed with his beloved pillow and read 'Green Eggs and Ham' to the pillow.  (complete with ending with "By Dr. Seuss, all rights reserved"  I swear that just cracks me up every single time!)  

I said it was time to brush his teeth.  He happily put too much toothpaste on his brush.  Then when it was my turn according to him I didn't put enough paste on the brush.  Chaos and crying and squiggling.  We did it the hard way and he cried and cried.

(on an aside...my cat just jumped on my table, grabbed a piece of fried shrimp off my plate and is now chowing down.)

After brushing and flossing he was still crying, but wanted me to hold him, so I did.  He curled up in my arms and moaned/cried for about 10-15 minutes while I sang him lullabies.  Eventually I laid him down on the bed with me and he was asleep within minutes.

His 4th birthday is 249 days away.