Dear Connor,
You are like a little boy explosion. I’ve got to tell you over the past month we’ve had some issues. All at once, we were stunned by your complete disregard for any rule or anything that we had to say. You were totally and completely out of control. And so was I. Turns out you have a sixth sense. It lets you know when Mommy is sleep deprived. You take advantage of this special power by getting into anything and everything that you aren’t supposed to, because you know that Mommy is probably too tired to deal. Because for a while, Mommy was. Nothing was working. Not spanking, not time out, not the naughty spot, not taking away toys, not having a talk with Mommy or Daddy. Nothing. I began to think that maybe for the next few years we were doomed to live in the wake of your tsunami like tantrums, trapped by the flood of your two year old emotions. But after reading a couple of different, How The Hell To Do This Parenting Thing books, I came to several conclusions.
You are like a little boy explosion. I’ve got to tell you over the past month we’ve had some issues. All at once, we were stunned by your complete disregard for any rule or anything that we had to say. You were totally and completely out of control. And so was I. Turns out you have a sixth sense. It lets you know when Mommy is sleep deprived. You take advantage of this special power by getting into anything and everything that you aren’t supposed to, because you know that Mommy is probably too tired to deal. Because for a while, Mommy was. Nothing was working. Not spanking, not time out, not the naughty spot, not taking away toys, not having a talk with Mommy or Daddy. Nothing. I began to think that maybe for the next few years we were doomed to live in the wake of your tsunami like tantrums, trapped by the flood of your two year old emotions. But after reading a couple of different, How The Hell To Do This Parenting Thing books, I came to several conclusions.
One, I had to calm. down. Speak softly and carry a big stick. Two, when you have your talk with Mommy because you’ve done something wrong you have to make eye contact. You absolutely hate this. I hold you in my lap until you are ready to look at me, (we’ve had marathon sessions of this) and then we have a little chat. That’s all.
The problem is we have to stay very, very consistent. Because you are a both determined and smart, you are constantly testing the perimeters and letting you slide on an offense could cause our new manifest to come crashing down around us. It’s the same reason that people play the slots. Because once out of 20 times… you are going to hit the jackpot.So there isn’t much relaxing around here. Although there is nothing more that your Dad and I would like better than to just lay on the sofa and watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer re-runs while your brother coos in our arms and you quietly play with blocks at our feet. For the WHOLE ENTIRE EPISODE. But since that, nor anything close to that has ever happened… we just have to settle for watching in 5 minute increments, (Thank you DVR!) while we pull you off of the top shelf of the linen closet.
Because oh how you love to climb. I recently finished the mural in your room and the first time you saw it completely, you tried to climb up onto the rock that the wolf is standing on and kept saying, “Mommy? Want to climb up it. Want up.” I guess it says something for my skill at realism, but also that you truly would, climb a flat wall. OhMyGod are you obsessed with the toilet. And putting things into it. And flushing them. Thing like plastic alphabet letters and Daddy’s toothbrush. Things like wads of toilet paper. You will poo and pee on the potty, but get so obsessed with the toilet paper that I have to take it off of the holder so you can’t reach it and move away items like magazines and the hairdryer. Everything must go into the toilet. I’m so glad that you don’t have access to the cat.
You are so sweet to your brother. You bring him toys and try to share your goldfish crackers with him. You offer your sippy cup and don’t understand why you aren’t praised for sharing your V8 juice with the baby. That’s right. You drink V8 juice. But only because Daddy told you it was coffee and since you see what a big deal coffee is in the mornings, you figure it MUST be all that. Even if it tastes like spaghetti sauce over ice.
You sing everything you say. We love it. It’s not intentional… but even if you say, Mommy is folding laundry; you say it in the cutest little sing song voice. It sounds like mo-MEEE is fo-DING Laun-DREEEE!
You are so sweet to your brother. You bring him toys and try to share your goldfish crackers with him. You offer your sippy cup and don’t understand why you aren’t praised for sharing your V8 juice with the baby. That’s right. You drink V8 juice. But only because Daddy told you it was coffee and since you see what a big deal coffee is in the mornings, you figure it MUST be all that. Even if it tastes like spaghetti sauce over ice.
You sing everything you say. We love it. It’s not intentional… but even if you say, Mommy is folding laundry; you say it in the cutest little sing song voice. It sounds like mo-MEEE is fo-DING Laun-DREEEE! You are starting to drawn conclusions on your own. The other day you asked what a sound was and I told you it was a police car. You said, “Must be zoomin!” which totally cracked me up because actually it was driving very quickly… you could tell by the sound. Although you never saw the car. You’ve got such amazing listening skills. If we could just get you to hear us when we ask you to please stop jumping on the sofa.
Love,
Mom-MEEE!
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