I had heard about the terrible twos. Heck, I thought I had experienced them. But ohhhh no. Oh no no no no no.
I have been misinformed on many counts. I thought this was a period of mild defiance, with maybe a tantrum thrown here and there for effect. I thought this was something I might not have to experience at all. My Thalia? My sweet, loveable, charming funny little girl? Nah.
Crow: Tastes a whole lot like chicken.
What no one told me is that terrible is just understated spin, a false description offered in lieu of the more accurate (although less alliterative) appalling or egregious, a lie propagated to keep the childless from remaining so. Certainly humanity as we know it would die out, Children of Men style, should the general population catch wind of what’s in store for them a mere 30 months after labor and delivery. Like hemorrhoids aren’t deterrent enough.
This stage is fact not the terrible twos, or even the egregious twos. It is nothing short of Toddler PMS.
(Has anyone ever called it this before? I ‘m sure they have. And they’d be accurate.)
Or perhaps it’s just a case of satanic posession. Neither would be hard for me to believe, although I would like a firm diagnosis so I know whether to call an exorcist or pump Thalia full of Motrin and crank up the Sarah McLaughlin music.
I want something to eat mommy.Okay, would you like ravioli? The fun ones, shaped like stars and hearts?
Noooo! NO RAVIOLI! WAHHHH!!! RAVIOLIIIII! NOOOOOO! I DON’T WANT TO EAT RAVIOLIIIIIII AUGHHHHHH!
Oh I’m sorry, did I say “live earthworms in a pool of monkey brains?” I swear, I thought I said ravioli. Sometimes I confuse them.
(sniff, sob) I want cereal.No sweetie, cereal is for breakfast. What else can I get you?
CEREALLLLLLL! WAHHHHHH!! CE. RE. ALLLLLLLLL!!!!
How about a peanut butter sandwich?
NOOOOOOO…. WAHHHHH! I W-W-WANT CEREAL.
You can cut it yourself.
(sniff) Yes. I want a sandwich. (sniff) I want to go cut it. (brightly) Carry me mommy! Carry me and I will cut the sandwich all by myself!
The spirit is willing but the feet are weak.
I want to spread the peanut butter on the bread. Then I want to lick the peanut butter off the knife.No sweetie, no licking off…
WAHHHHHH! I WANT TO LICK IT OFF THE KNIFE!
Fine, fine. You can lick the knife. (Am I a pushover parent?)
NO!!!! I DON’T WANT TO LICK THE KNIFE!!!! NOOOOOOO WAHHHHHHH!!!
Okay! Don’t lick the knife! Geez. Fine. I’m going to give you some carrots with that.
NOOOOO! CARROTTSSSSS!!! WAHHHHH! NOOOOOO!!
Or melon?
Melon! I like melon! I want some melon. I want some melon! So good. Can I cut it?
Sure. Of course. I’m glad you’re happy. Here’s the knife…
NOOOO….I WANT CARROTTTTSSSSSS! I DON’T WANT TO CUT THE MELON. WAHHHHHHH! I WANT CEREAL! CARRY ME! WAHHHHH!
It’s especially fun when you throw a baby into the mix. Fortunately Sage is a good-natured one. At least during daylight hours. But there was a moment tonight in which I did have to insist that only one child was permitted to cry at a time.
And just in time for preschool interviews. Good times.
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Toddler PMS! I like it!But, uh, sorry.
I still laugh at the books I was checking out of the library when Belly was about 3—-”Out of Control Child”, “Out-of-Sync Child”—stuff like that. She could scream on her back for an hour, at least. I thought she was possessed. And, then, the switch went off and she was my sweet, loving, (somewhat) rational child again. And then #2 started to do it too, but even more intense and LOUDER! I’m waiting for my little guy to do this, but maybe it’s a girl thing—instead, he just hits and crashes his cars into the wall when he is mad. So, in short (ha!), hang in there—the time does pass and soon no one will believe that your sweet little girl was ever anything but sweet.
Hang in there. I have no words of wisdom other than, BTDT and I swear at times still going through it. I like to joke that it’s good we got pregnant before Oceanus turned two or he might have been an only child.
My eldest was a mild two year old… my second is a far cry from mild. He can scream and scream until he practically hyperventilates and/or throws up. It’s a feat of nature I am telling you. Hang in there, and know we are struggling with you.
Ah, dinner tonight was heralded by a chorus of “peanut butter and jelly sandwich! Peanut butter and jelly sandwich! Peanut butter and jelly sandwich!”And then after I’d applied the jelly and pulled out the container of PB, “NO PEANUT BUTTER! NO!”huh?
I imposed that same rule (one child may cry at a time) shortly after CJ was born.I invoked it most recently on Sunday evening.How the hell am I going to handle three of them?!
MGM: Answer: Same rule.
Hmmmm. This sounds a lot like life at my house, only my two year old is always asking for peanut butter and honey sandwiches and frozen peas, which he prefers to eat with an ice cream scoop.I think many two-year-olds could be classified as clinically insane.
Um…she is learning that she has free will. Necessary developmental stage blah blah blah. It will wear off in 20 years or so.
Sorry to tell you this, but it doesn’t always end as quickly as you would like. My daughter is still in the “I want cereal. No! peanut butter sandwich. No! cereal” stage and she’s nearly 4! Aarrggh!Of course, she has always been a difficult child, and every one I know has always been so kind as to point that out to me. Jerks!I hope the terrible twos aren’t too terribly long for you!
oh gosh. I’m sorry. That’s painful.Just this morning, my 3 year-old was sobbing uncontrollably over a number of life tragedies including but not limited to (syrup dripping onto her plate, her yogurt straw pointing the wrong direction and having to get dressed before breakfast).And then a few hours later, that crazy girl was gone. And my sweet daughter was back.But I know that crazy one is still lurking around.
I’m peeing myself because I feel like we’re getting to this exact stage. What to do in times like these…I say, lock ourselves in the bathroom and turn the fan/faucet on, hum really loud and look at all the pretty trees and happy birdies.(Came over through my buddy at Marriage-101)
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Actually… three is much worse than 2. And so far 4 has been no picnic in the park.I can’t remember which of the baby doc advice givers it was – perhaps the guy who wrote Happiest Toddler on the Block – who wrote that when your toddler melts down like that you should talk back to them with the same tone and urgency in order to show that you sympathize with them and that this somehow magically will snap them out of their tandrum. I tried it once or twice – but the only thing worse than a toddler (or two) having a meltdown is their parent having one, too. It was one of the worst pieces of parenting advice I read.For now, the only thing to do is to hunker down for the long haul. I hear it ends eventually.
Oh we use the “only one child can scream at a time” rule all the time. It works!
yeah i’m kind of a pushover too, untless it’s important-like not throwing food, listening when i talk, not running out the door to the parking lot of the doctors office while mommy tries to pay the copay with a screaming 4 month old who just got shots(yeah that was yesterday) i yelled through a packed waiting room at him in my mean mommy voice, everyone jumped and stared, good times. is it still pms in boys?
I posted about this exact thing not too long ago (http://www.livinginthegray.com/2008/01/15/preschool-pms/). I called it Preschool PMS. My daughter sounds exactly like I sound when I’m hormonal and that’s frightening because she’s 4.
wow, she sounds just like my 3 year old….that is right, my doc laughed at me when i complained about the terrible two’s and said, what till you see 3. NICE huh. it is 2 with an attitude. hang in there.
I had the “only one person may cry at a time” rule (“person” just in case it was ME). It actually worked a few times.
Oh how funny! I have three boys and that’s STILL an accurate label! Except, mine hit it when they were three..they do say that boys develop slower than girls though! BEst of luck navigating these tough times.
I don’t know whether I’d refer to it as toddler PMS. I like to think of that phase as either schizophrenia or TEMPORARY INSANITY!Good luck, Liz. Keep the Motrin and the vodka nearby.
Erm…the bad news is that the only thing worse than the terrible twos is the horrendous threes. Sorry to inform you of that sad fact.One day, when she’s four-ish, though, she’ll say or do something, and you’ll realize that she’s been listening to you ALL ALONG, just not able to really process and comply and DO anything about it. But at around 4ish, she will. So keep up the good work, and don’t give up.
The terrible twos start exactly at 2 1/2. Oh my LORD. I spend half my morning saying, “MOMMY DOES NOT WANT TO YELL!!” Of course, I am Y-E-L-L-I-N-G at this point. Sigh. Hang in there. I assume this is why there is preschool…
It is all gearing up for the Terrible Threes which is the single most hellish age. Twos, a cake walk by comparison.
i think i must have been watching some godawful supernanny show or something at the time jack hit that age, but each time he began to lose his shit like that i just took to sticking him on the stair until he *regained* his shit. for some unfathomable reason it worked. made for a facking long dinner time though.
*whispers*The 3′s are worse.Sorry.I have a 6, a 3 and a 2. When the earth is spinning on its axis and all 3 are crying at once, I seriously look around my kitchen for the hidden cameras. Like, seriously? This is my life?!
I could be completley ass backwards on this, but to me…she’s acting three. I have never minded two year olds. But three is a scary age. And as smart as Thalia is, I’m sure she got there early. The defiance, the attitude and the I must do everything my way, is all three in my book. So…um, yeah enjoy.
Sorry, but they all go through some phase. And I bet you’d rather it be at two and a half than thirteen, right? I mean at least you can put her in time out or whatever if you want now. Not so east when they are as big as you.
Three is worse. Then 4 year old girls are extremely unpleasant! But then it gets better and then they turn 7 and into little miniature teenagers. Gah! I love the Toddler PMS, I think it goes on throughout life. Maybe stopping when they are like 25;0)
yowza, mommy. yowza.
Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I have to agree with the other commenters about age three. (Although Mimi seemed to skip the terrible twos and threes — but Rosie’s making up for that in spades.) So if 2 is Toddler PMS, then 3 is when they’re seriously on the rag, I guess.
Yeah, for us 2 was comparatively not so bad. We had isolated days like this but it wasn’t a common occurence. Now that she’s turned 3, we have the Toddler PMS all the time.
Just wait until 3.3 makes the terribles twos look like a joke.
Lurker here, but I totally agree with sueb0b. She is testing to see how much contol she has. It seems like she didn’t even know what she wanted but of course doesn’t know how to handle indecision. May I suggest that instead of giving her more options, to stop her and say something like “if you can’t tell me what you want nicely, then I will choose for you.” And then end the discussion and make whatever you want her to have. Then, she learns that she can’t control the situation by having a tantrum. Just a thought! Christy
I tell Punky all the time that only one child is allowed to cry at a time. Thank God it works!
Hard to believe they grow up into rational human beings, isn’t it? My personal favorite part of this phase if the Denial of the Obvious, such as “NO! THAT’S NOT THE RIGHT PIECE!” or “NO! DADDY’S NOT HERE!” or “NO! I’M NOT IN THE TUBBY!”Forget waterboarding…let the terrorists deal with our kids for a few days. Or is that outlawed by the Geneva Conventions, too?
Apt. Very.I call it “the broken cookie” syndrome.The tantrum is never really about the broken cookie. It’s about the sudden realization of the great powerlessness and inequality of being 2. And the broken cookie.I try to never ask yes or no questions. Essay answers keep them better occupied. And the old yes-as-no sometimes works for a few weeks. Or hours. You know:Mommy can I have a cookie for breakfast?Yes, you can have a cookie after dinner!The absurd aspect keeps them off kilter.And I like three choices instead of two. Three confuses them just enough to off balance them.It’s like parenting Tai Kwan Do. Good luck. I failed years 2-4 miserably. IOW, ignore everything I just said.
Erm…I hate to bring this up but…um…you do know some day she’ll be a TEENAGER don’t you? At which point you will look back on these moments FONDLY? I’m just saying
Children of Men? Now I’m thinking about Clive Owen and won’t get anything done the rest of the day!
If two is a glimpse of the hormonal pre-teen years, then three is the moody, argumentative, slam-the-door teen years.Why did we decide to have second children and go through this again?
Hi there,I think you should have given in at the suggestion of cereal. Don’t we all eat cereal later in the day at some point? And it’s very nutritious. I hate to add to everyone else who’s said it, but three is usually worse than two because they get more creative in their evil-doings. Oh, and I forgot to mention that boys throw tantrums AND wreck the house.
Mine sprouted horns the other day. Swear to God.And everyone tells me that three is worse. If this is true you’ll find me in my cellar with many cases of wine until Chicky turns four. Someone else can raise this new kid. I’m going into hiding.
Dude, why not just give her the cereal? When one of my kids saves they want cereal, I do a little jig and then pour them a mountain. Cereal the all the time, so mommy doesn’t have to think food.
The cruel joke is that threes are SO MUCH WORSE.
Cereal advocates – lord knows I bring out the Cheerios from time to time. But my 2.5 year old is still in 18-24 month pants and I’d kind of like her to eat something besides cereal and white rice and cinnamon toast.Hey, I did offer her a pb sandwich for dinner instead. Isn’t that slacker enough for you?
Three is worse. And my younger one? Not good-natured. I feel for you. Here’s a virtual shot of tequila.
I have to agree that the three’s are worse. At three, they have the vocabulary to go with the attitude. Oye … I have a 2 1/2 year old who is as contrary as they come. We’ve had the “I want peanut butter! I don’t want peanut butter!” conversation many times. Take heart, there’s always boarding school!
You just took me back three years. Oh, memories! Of course, it never gets better…it just gets different. Today my five yo looked me square in the eyes and said, “You.are.a.big.problem.” And my eight yo just gets snotty and rolls her eyes alot. Yes, yes, the fun never stops.
Really can’t get past the “preschool interviews” line. For those of us living west of the Mississippi and east of the “gifted preschools” of CA, PLEASE blog about what the heck a “preschool interview” consists of! I’m dyin’ over here in the desert!
Mine are 19 months and 3 months. Thank you to all for offering such a frightening glimpse of what’s to come.
We have just entered this living hell. Ada turns from charming toddler to spawn of satan with no warning. And occasionally back again, if only for a couple of minutes. Thank goodness, or I’d have run away from home already.
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