Seven years ago I gave birth to my first son. As he grew up I always heard about this crazy urban legend called the Terrible Twos and the Terrifying Threes. Apparently, the legend states that when a toddler turns two they become cranky, extremely unruly and hard to control.
However, a rare few get to skip this stage and hit the Terrifying Threes. Thankfully, I was one of those fair few who hit neither of these ‘make-believe’ phases. I was so thankful to have such a well-behaved toddler and was constantly receiving compliments on his good behavior.
When he turned three and a half I found out I was pregnant with a second little boy and I thought I was going to get lucky again. Boy, oh boy, was I very, very wrong. I was about to get hit with a double whammy!
A Dream Come True
When my second son was born he was the happiest baby you could ever meet. He was always smiling, never cried, slept through the night and he didn’t always need to be held. Every parent’s dream come true. I have to admit most of that is due to the fact that he spent the first five weeks of his life in the NICU where the nurses and doctors weren’t able to pick him up and snuggle him every time he cried.
Needless to say, I felt like I was going to be the luckiest mother ever to have two perfectly well-behaved angels.
Then on February 2, 2017, my youngest little angel turned that dreaded age of two and all my dreams turned into the nightmare I feared.
The Terrible Twos
So this is the ‘ mythical’ age that was going to turn my sweet, quiet, lovable little baby into a fire-breathing dragon.
I was afraid to go out in public because all he did now was scream all if the time. I tried my hardest to remind myself that he was going growing pains and teething. He wasn’t able to communicate his needs and this made him frustrated. When he was hungry he would scream. If he was bored he whined. And if he was tired he would cry uncontrollably.
As much as I tried to understand him nothing I did seemed to save us from the impending frustration. Most nights I would sit on the floor in his bedroom and just watch him sleep while the tears rolled down my cheeks. He looked so peaceful and happy that all I could think was what could I do to make him like this all the time. I was so thankful we only had to deal with this phase for one year.
Or so I thought…
Fast forward one year later and I am sitting here being screamed at by my terrifying three-year-old. How did I go from my oldest being the sweetest kid to having my youngest be a little demon child? Please do not misunderstand me I love my little boy more than life itself but he drives me crazy!
He can now talk which you would think would make life a little easier, it doesn’t.
There are days he refuses to tell me what he wants. His favorite word is “No” and loves to say it very loudly and repeatedly. His chosen profession at this time is a street-fighter so he will randomly walk up and punch his brother for no reason. I am that mother with the screaming toddler that you look at sympathetically. Hopefully, this stage will be over and I won’t have to make a new stage called the “Frightening Fours.”
I know that I have made my kids sound awful and intolerable but he is not! There are times when he is my sweet, loving funny little munchkin again. There are times when he makes me laugh so hard I am crying. When my heart is so full watching him sing and dance along to his favorite movie “The Greatest Showman.” Then there are those times he randomly runs up and gives me a hug and kiss and a “Luh you Mommy.” These are the times when I want to scream at the top of my lungs from the peak of the highest mountain, “Toddler years give me back my kid!”