Gus. Gus is my toddler. He's my terrible two. Emphasis on: terrible. Why do I wish he'd say "no?" I'm not gearing toward one of those pensively deep responses, like,
if I teach him to say "no" in a safe environment, then he'll be able to say "no" to racism, sexism, violence, yadda-yadda-yadda
. That's all fine and dandy, but that's not what I'm getting at here.
Since Lucy's birth, I've had a number of people ask me, "So, what's it like with four?" Honestly, it's about the same as three. It's not too bad. Except for GUS.
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| My sweet little one |
Gus's recent behavior has made me delve into my memories: were my other two-year-olds this difficult? First, there was Miriam. She started her terrible two's at 18 months and they lasted until she was four and a half. Stubborn as a mule and persistent as that caterpillar munching away all my arugula. Miriam's tantrums would
easily last an hour. That was a "good" one. A bad one could carry on for two. "Why don't you distract her?" Tried. "Can't you just re-direct her?" Nope. She'd fixate on something and her fury would sound throughout the house to no end. "Doesn't it tire her out?" Apparently not.
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| Miri, getting ready for a swim |
Then, there was Noah. Noah was much more easy-going than his big sis. However, he would occasionally throw his version of a temper tantrum. We nicknamed it the "Hulk SMASH." If you sent him to his room for a time out, you ought to prepare for re-entry. Not only would all the toys, puzzle pieces, blankets, and stuffed animals be strewn about, but so would every book from the book case... and the
shelves from the book case. As he got a little older, "Hulk SMASH" turned into "Hulk PEE." His common retort being: "Fine! Then I'm just going to pee all over the floor!" And he'd pull down his pants and... yeah. Thank goodness that's ended.
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| Noah's 4th Birthday (today!) |
Now, a new dawn upon us: Gus. Our linebacker, our dictator, our little Napoleon. He's verbally constructed the toddler version of the middle finger.
"Gus, can you please get the step stool?"
"Never!"
"Gus, would you like cereal or oatmeal?"
"Never!"
"Gus, let's get a new diaper."
"Never!"
Any mundane task becomes a Civil War. In my eyes, I'm the North; Gus is the South. In Nick's eyes, he's Captain America; Gus is Iron Man. Diaper changes, car seat bucklings, hair washings -- they're all exhausting, physical strains that seem to never end. "Never" has become his battle cry. There are days when I just wish my toddler would say "no."
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| Wish you weren't so cute |
