What I learned today
Did you know that two year olds are the most annoying creatures in the world? I mean, I’m pretty sure that if the CIA used toddlers’ screaming as a form of torture, even Jack Bauer would crack.
As I sat in the OB’s office today waiting for my A-OK postpartum examination, I thought to myself, THANK GOD THIS IS MY LAST KID. I looked over at Audrey in her carrier, head crooked to the side, asleep, and thought, I’m so glad I have her, but I’m so glad it’s over.
Then we talked birth control.
Just kidding. Though I did briefly say, “What are the odds of a doctor who’s been practicing urology for over 30 years suddenly going from having 100% no fail procedures to all of a sudden me pregnant again?”
She said, “Well, I’ve never had a failure before, so if you want me to take care of you, I can. But honestly, Dr. Greco is amazing. Your call.”
I should probably get my tubes tied, eh?
Either way, I got the old, “Go back to doing whatever you’re doing, and I already know you’re back to exercising because I know you, just don’t over OVER do it.”
Me? Overdo it? Psh.
Then I gathered all the kids and my mom and headed off to lunch.
They were good, but Mae was already showing how annoying she can be. She had ants in her pants and was excited when Audrey woke up to eat, so she’d race around the table to say, “HI AUDREEEEEY!” and then back to her toast. All in all, we got compliments from two separate tables saying how well behaved they were, and while I think that yes, they were, they were also borderline loud. But these are kids and it was a family restaurant. So whatever.
Then I say the kids need shoes. Mom says she doesn’t care if we hit up the mall.
So WE GO TO THE MALL.
You know what I hate more than being probed by my OB at 9 in the morning?
You know what I hate even more than all of that? Bringing a two year old to a mall. A two year old Mae to be exact.
Up until her, I was lucky with this whole two year old thing. And you know, I guess I’m still pretty lucky because we average a tantrum a week or less. But this kid thinks she can do whatever she wants, whenever she wants. She thinks she can pick when she goes to bed or IF she goes to bed. She thinks she doesn’t have to hold my hand when crossing the road and she certainly doesn’t think that I have the right to dress her.
Most days I’m kind of whatever about it. I don’t really pick my battles with her, I fight her on pretty much all of them. As I mentioned previously, her and I are a lot alike and guess what? We’re both stubborn. So I tell her to stare at a wall, she tells me no. I tell her to stare at that wall because that is what I said, and she says no. I tell her that if she doesn’t stare at that wall then I’m going to take her princess dress away and she stares at the wall.
We’re both very reactive and very emotional.
I’m in trouble.
So we go shoe shopping at the mall and I am so thankful that the mall by my house isn’t really a mall. In fact, it’s called a mall, it looks like a mall, but it has an ITT Technical institute inside. And a church. And an expo center. Oh, and a few stores. But it does have a Victoria’s Secret and H&M, so really, I win. And because it’s a fake mall, it’s never really busy.
But real mall or fake mall, Mae has to still hold my hand and NOT RUN ALL OVER because when I see other kids doing that, I judge. I wasn’t in the mood to get judged. But judged I was because Mae decided to throw a fit over holding my hand. And princess shoes. And something else, I can’t remember.
My mom was a saint. She went with the flow.
I think I stayed calm. I can’t remember. I do remember, however, wishing I was drunk.
When we got home, they all immediately went to bed. Claire and Luca could sense the mommy rage growing, so they did as they were told and Mae, who was obviously tired, obliged.
Then I told my friend Jen my woes:
me: I took the kids shoe shopping. Now I want to kill myself.
Jennifer: That good, huh?
me: If three tantrums by Mae is good I don’t want to be wrong.
Jennifer: THREE! That girl never runs out of emotion.
me: Hell no.
So I learned today that twos are terrible.
That honestly, if you call anything “princess” then Mae is more likely to give in.
That Maelie doesn’t care about comfort, and is more into style. So I’m wondering if she’s really my kid at all, being as I have house yoga pants and going out yoga pants. (Just like my friend Lauren.)
And lastly, that staying strong and not giving in to her, even though that would be the easiest thing, reminds me that I’m OK at this mothering thing. But I’d be an even better mother if I drank more wine.
Now to top off my exciting morning, Audrey is having great joy in playing a game with me that involves me changing her diaper, then her crapping, then me changing her diaper and then her crapping again. And wait for it… there she goes again.
Seriously. Four diapers in 30 minutes. I win today!
At least she’s cute.
Who’s with me?