I told Jorma that I didn’t want to assume that Connor was going to go through the terrible twos because I didn’t want to create his destiny. Meaning, if we expect him to go through this stage… he will. We tried to remain positive, or I did at least, but it’s come time to accept the fact… The terrible twos are officially here.
And it hurts.
It’s not the testing, the willfulness or the sneakiness. It’s not the temper tantrums, every sentence beginning with, “Connor wants”, it’s not the refusal to listen. It’s the whining that gets to us. The whining that makes me understand why some animals eat their young. The whining that makes us wish the
He is like a little boy explosion. And I don’t know what to do.
Last night I was at my neighbor’s house lamenting about the terrible two’s blossoming at our place and how the past few days had been unbearable.
Her parents are in town and her Mother was sitting at the table listening and said, in her charming Dutch accent, “There is a wind coming, yah? Sometimes, the wind comes through and some people, it makes them crazy.”
“I think I gave birth to one of those people, “ I said.
But ya know what... I’ll take that, because I would rather believe that the wind is causing the problem than accept the fact that it’s going to be this way for quite a while. It’s amazing what a powerful tool denial can be.
Everyone keeps saying it’s a stage and I know it is, it’s just so damn hard to live through. If it’s this bad now, I’m going to have to pickle him before he gets to puberty.
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