Terrible Twos

Terrible twos. Something every parent hears about. Something every parent comes to fear. Well, I think we are here. This makes me actually feel a little relieved because it's no longer something I am dreading. It's now become something I'm living, several moments each day. And overall it's really not that bad. It's a little deceiving because not every moment is "terrible". Some days I'll start to think, maybe these TT's aren't going to be as bad as everyone says. Then, boom! Cale drops a bomb on us. But, truthfully I think Carl and I enjoy this stage that Cale is at more than any other he's been in. Well, most of the time.

Sometimes it feels like we're living with a teenager in a tiny person's body. Cale can be so extremely moody for no apparent reason. And his moodiness is always directed towards his parents. Lucky us. I heard him crying in his room at about 6:00 yesterday morning. I opened his door ready to love on him and make him feel better because I'm a Mommy and that's what we do best, right? Well the minute he sees me, instead of the look of pure joy and relief I was hoping for, he shot a dirty look my way and yelled, "No! Get out!". I tried to talk to him to see what was wrong and in a very exasperated voice he said, "No, don't talk!". Seriously, I am not suppossed to get on his nerves yet. I can only imagine what he'll be like at fourteen. Sheesh.

Same exact thing happened this morning except that I didn't go in his room. Nope, wasn't going to make that mistake twice. After a few minutes of fussing, Cale came out of his room to find me cooking eggs in the kitchen. The minute I said hey, he grumpily said, "Don't talk, mom!". I didn't think my son would start hating the sound of my voice until he got older.

And in Cale's case one of the most obvious characteristics of terrible twos is: throwing himself ever so dramatically onto the floor, face down, and crying horribly. I mean, you would think he just lost his best friend. Nope, I simply told him he couldn't have another Tic Tac. Even the tiniest, seemingly small thing results in an Oscar-worthy crying performance by Cale. We've really tried to start ignoring his tantrums, even though they are a bit amusing. The good thing is, since he buries his face in the ground as he cries, Carl and I can point, laugh silently, and smile at each other without Cale ever knowing. Of course a strong-willed child never gives up, he simply monitors and adjusts. Cale's new and improved strategy is to throw the tantrum, then get up, stretch his lower lip out into the perfect pout, and in an almost irresistably sad voice say, "I sad. I been crying. Real bad." Oh really son, we hadn't even noticed. Thanks for telling us.

But for each terrible two moment there is usually an equally terrific two moment. Terrific either being something very funny or very sweet that Cale does.

Sweet: This morning, after Carl and Cale had gone out the door, Carl comes back in and tells me to walk outside. Cale was sitting in his carseat, not wanting to leave because apparently he had told me he loved me and he was worried I had not heard him. So, he said it again. "I love you Mommy. Be careful". Melt my heart. If that kid ever discovers what those words do to me, we just might be in trouble.

Funny: A few days ago, Cale runs in and says very seriously, "Mommy, Keaton's eating himself!" I go see what's going on and I find that Keaton is slurping on his fingers as all baby's do. But, to a concerned big brother, he was eating himself.

That same night, I walk into Cale's room to find his dirty diaper (and I mean,
dir-ty) on the floor and Cale standing on his tippy toes with poop all over his bottom, trying to get his wipes out of the top drawer of his dresser. Guess he was going to change himself. Interesting idea. Hmmm, he can attempt to change himself but can't tell us when he needs to go to the bathroom. Somehow that just doesn't quite seem right.