Well, I never thought I'd be saying this. I never thought my son would be like every other kid. I had wished to think that I had raised him so he wouldn't go into this stage. But... I guess it is engraved in every little boy at the tender age of 2...
The Terrible Twos.
And boy did they hit hard! I mean, one day I'm sitting with my son on the couch, watching his favorite movies, playing his favorite games, singing his favorite songs, and then... BAM! He's no longer adorable Toby. Noooo. He's conniving, maniacal, sneaky, ninja-like Toby.
He instigates crying sessions out of Aidan. He starts arguments with Jason and I (with Toby, not between the two of us). His energy level is now so high that I feel so drained trying to keep up.
I cannot tell you how many times I day I have to tell Toby "No" or "Stay away from that" or "Don't jump off of that" or even "Get. Down!" It's exhausting. And to tell you the truth... I want it all to end! I want my loveable Toby back. My little baby boy that doesn't smart back to me or scream all day long.
Just today he made me want to rip out my hair so badly that I didn't know what to do. It all started this morning when he had finished his first drink of the day. He was lounging on his little couch that he has while I was on the couch trying to snooze some since Aidan had me up at 4 am and didn't go back to sleep until around 5:40 this morning. Upon finishing his drink and realizing that he didn't have anything else in his cup, he crawled up the couch and shoved the drink in my face, smashing my nose in the process. When I told him he could wait a little bit before haivng another drink he then proceeded to pull back his hand that had the cup in it, scream at me, and then throw the cup at my face.
Upon the stars disappearing from my sight, I told him in a rather calm manner to sit on his couch and be quiet. And because of the way he had acted he could wait until he got a drink.
That was just the start of the day. Then there was the constantly getting up on top of the coffee table and jumping off of it. Thus proceeded the two hours of me constantly pulling him down off of the coffee table and telling him no, which proceeded to bring on the tantrums that went on for half of the day.
The only time of peace I had was when Toby took a nap for around an hour and after Jason got home I quickly went over to my neighbor's house to help her clean.
Why couldn't my son have been different from other children his age? Why couldn't he have totally bypassed the terrible two's? And lastly... How am I supposed to cope with them, since every day I go to sleep exhausted, only to start the process over again.
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