Welcome to the Terrible Twos!

As much as I say I admire Angus’s strong will and independent nature, most of the time those wonderful personality traits actually manifest in ways that make me want to run face first into a brick wall.

This child is so busy! He has NO interest in TV. Who doesn’t love watching TV? And lord knows I’ve tried!! I wouldn’t mind at all if he sat still for 15 minutes, long enough for an episode of The Wiggles.

And trying to change his diaper? Have you ever tried to put a diaper on a feral cat? Neither have I. But I can imagine that all the flailing claws and teeth would be pretty similar to changing Angus. Unfortunately this is an event that happens about six times a day. And you’d think running around with poop squashed to his butt would bother him, but NOPE.

And lately, every time I go to the grocery store/bank/whatever, a tantrum happens.

Because he wants to RUN! And be FREE! Who wants to be strapped into a boring shopping cart? Booooooring.

I’ve tried giving him junk food, small change, ripped toys out of the packaging before I’ve bought them, made faces at him…YOU NAME IT, I’ve done it, just trying to get him to not freak out for 15 minutes so I can get my shopping done. But usually I CAN’T get my shopping done in 15 minutes, so he starts throwing things out of the cart. Then starts trying to climb OUT of the cart. Then he just gets pissed and if I have the misfortune of getting close enough to him, my hair gets pulled, an earring gets yanked out, or I get slapped.

Other shoppers stare at me, or say things that are supposed to make me feel better, like, “Ohhh, someone needs a nap!”

As if I’m so stupid that I would take him out shopping when he’s tired! Hah! No, he’s always an asshole like this. Of course I make sure he’s had a nap before we go out.

People, I have one of THOSE kids. The kind of kid that I used to shudder at before I ever had kids.

We are so opposite, him and I. I am pretty quiet and introverted. Kind of lazy by nature. I am perfectly content to sit alone and read a book for hours. I like solitude. I like quiet. and I have been blessed with this boisterous, LOUD, social, busy little kid. Who yells. And throws things. And hits. And hates shopping. (So in other words, he’s a boy.)

And the part that I find the hardest is that he’s not a cuddler. Even when he somersaults down the stairs and lands on his head, I go running, pick him up and give him a hug, and he just pushes away from me.The kid is SO independent. I know it will serve him well when he’s older, but sometimes I just wish I felt like he needed his mummy sometimes.

So there it is. Angus has taken me by surprise since the day he was born, and I’m still coming to terms with the fact that he’s not the little mini-me I was expecting; a daughter, sweet and gentle and quiet.

But, like everything in life,  this is all an important lesson I need to learn. Probably in tolerance, or patience or something. Something I obviously haven’t quite grasped yet.

But The Universe gave him to me as a son and me to him as a mother for a reason. And even though %75 of the time being a mother to him is nothing but FRUSTRATING, I still love him %100.

And he’s only a year and a half into his life –

So he’s got his WHOLE life to make it up to me! He he.

(Today was just a frustrating day. There were waaaaaay too many tantrums.

And way too much fucking poop.)

(I can just imagine my mother-in-law reading this and cackling because my description of Angus is exactly like all the stories she has told me of when Aaron was a kid.)