It’s Tough to be Two and a Half.

The Small Boy misses his sisters when they are at school. He asks me every few minutes “We going to get get the girls now??”. He doesn’t want to do anything during the day, though he will be swayed for a little while by an activity or two.

Every little thing brings him to tears.

No you can’t eat the whole packet of dried apricots – tears
Please sit on your chair while you eat – tears
Daddy is sleeping/at work/out/busy – tears
Draw on the paper – tears
Are you finished playing/eating/doing? – tears
Please hold my hand while we cross the road – tears
Wait one second – tears
Get in the car – tears
Get out of the car – tears

When it’s finally time to go and get the girls, he doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t want to get out of the car. He doesn’t want to walk with me to the prep courtyard and he doesn’t want to wait for the bell to ring.

He wants to play with the girls when they get home, but he doesn’t want to play by their rules. They yell at him, he bursts into inconsolable tears.

So many tears.
Angry tears.
Sad, broken hearted tears.
Lonely tears.
Frustrated, “it’s not fair” tears.

On the upside there are occasional moments of pure joy.

His sense of humour is bizarre but spot on.
“Monkey says giddy-up giddy-up” – “A monkey says giddy-up???” – “Yes when he’s riding a horse!”.

He sings constantly.
“Widia oh widia oh have you met Widia? Widia the tatooooed lady”
“Old Mc Donald had a farm – e-oh-e-oh-aaaaaaaaaah”

He says he loves me like he’s had one too many beers…
“I wuuuuuuv you mama…. I wuv you soooooooooo much!”

He’s putting himself to sleep almost every night – no need for someone to sit with him, no arm… he rolls over and says “I’m ok you, come back in a bit”…by the time I come back he is out like a light.

Oh the but the tears….
Some days the tears well out number the joys.
Most days the tears well out number the joys.
But the joys save me, save us.

It is normal, so I’m told. But it is so good to be reminded of that as I read Parenting Passageway’s post The Typical Ages of Disequilibrium…

“2 1/2 years – a peak age of disequilibrium typically, typically rigid and inflexible, wants everything done according to what they want, when they want it, domineering and demanding, violent emotions, no ability to choose between alternatives or make a choice and stick to it”

Oh yes we have that, all of that, in large doses.

He won’t be two and a half forever though.

Following the wise words of Motherhood Uncensored – soon two will be 12 and 12 will be 22 and he won’t be around to sing about tatooed ladies and tell me he ‘wuvs me soooooo much’….. and I try so hard to remember that.

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Trading Insults.

Zoe – ” You’re a noodge face!!”

Izzy – “No! Weasel toes!”

Muski – “Bum Cake!…. bum cake.. bum cake…bum cake.”

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I’m So Proud….

I’m so proud that my two year old son wandered around the library singing at the top of his lungs…
“Lydia oh Lydia, oh have you met Lydia, Lydia the tattooed ladeeeeee”

I’m so proud that my six year, upon seeing a new baby at the supermarket, asked me in a nice, loud, clear, voice…
“Do you think that baby came out of it’s mother’s vagina?”

I’m so proud that my other six year old managed to complete a very loud, public argument with her sister with…
“Well you are a buggered shit poo head vagina face, and I hate you!”

I’m so proud of my children….and the influence I have over them.

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Shwactors!

Muski-sillyface

Just as we all mourned the departure of the “Led Lobot in the Lubbish” and the “Fikey Fiders”, along came ’shwactors’ and ‘airfwanes’ and ‘wollies’ to keep us all entertained! And if all else fails – throw in a fabulous ’silly face’ and we’ll all be giggling!

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Making The Best of Beds.

The plan was to move Muski out of the cot next to our bed and into a big bed in his own room. In a perfect world that would have happened by now…. except that our world is not perfect and we still don’t have a building permit let alone that pesky extra bedroom, and it’s not likely to happen before the new baby arrives either.

So in the spirit of ‘Making the Best of Things’ we changed the plans a little, rearranged some things and visited Ikea to buy an extendible toddler bed to squeeze into the corner of our bedroom.

muski_bed1

It’s not the perfect solution, but it will give him a good 6 months to get used to being out of the cot, not right by my side and in his own bed, before the baby arrives to take that much coveted position. Things are going to be a little squishy in our room when we add number four, storage space is at a premium already and it’s not how I’d planned it, but I can actually see it working out quite well.

It’s made me get a handle on at least some of the junk we stored in our room just because we didn’t know what else to do with it. I sorted through baby clothes and blankets (not even a July baby born into our freezing house needs 28 baby blankets!). I’ve even chucked out shoes! Of course there is still more to do on the sorting and chucking front!

So far so good for Muski too.

muski_bed2

He chose a doona cover (with cars and trucks on it!) and helped Daddy build his bed and slept in it that night. I get up to him a few times during the night when he stirs and can’t find his dummy, but I only have to roll out of bed and stumble a couple of steps and I am right there. Much better than having to negotiate my way into another bedroom. He came into our bed at around 5am the first morning which I had expected, but the last two mornings in a row he’s slept past 8:30 in his own bed and then just got straight up!

I really thought he’d miss free access to my arm (he still has a HUGE ‘thing’ about rubbing his hands up and down my arms when he is tired or sad), but (touch wood) it seems that is not as big a deal as I’d thought. I still sit with him, and offer my arm, as he goes to sleep but he ditched his day sleep long long looooooong ago so he is usually pretty tired by the time we get to bed, which makes it quick and easy. I’m sure there will be good nights and bad, but it’s been rather trauma free.

So it turns out that this ‘Making the Best of Things’ stuff is not so hard after all… it’s actually quite good!

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