Two-Year-Olds Are Totally Annoying

I have some potentially disturbing news for all of you with infants that I discovered the other day in conversation with one of my fav mama friends: Two-year-olds are SUPER annoying. People call this developmental stage the “terrible twos” and the lovely Danes call it the “boundary stage” because man, do those little people know how to push you to the brink of your personal and psychological boundaries and then leave you hanging by a tether (also known as a very full glass of Shiraz). Boundary stage is actually meant to refer to the fact that at two, children are exploring their own boundaries and the boundaries that the world erects but this post ISN’T ABOUT THEM BECAUSE EVERYTHING IS ABOUT THEM.

I don’t mean to haunt the dreams of mamas of babies because, let’s face it, every stage that comes after the infant stage is a blessing because generally your boobs belong to you again and you aren’t changing poopy diapers in the middle of the night and possibly going back to bed with baby shit under your nails. So not to worry. This post is not about putting them up for adoption before they turn two because they have already outlived their cuteness quotient. Oh let me tell you – they become even more adorable (presumably so you don’t just leave them in a Wal-Mart parking lot when they have a meltdown of epic proportionate that may or may not include drinking puddle water) – and ever so incredibly annoying.

Here is a shortlist of what makes two-years-olds terribly annoying:

·         They want their pants on but then they don’t because they are not the ones with the stars on them and then wait – holy hell – the ones with the stars on them are possibly covered in acid because they are making your child scream bloody murder.

·         They wake you up at the crack of dawn and then, at some point in the morning, they yawn widely and complain that they are tired.

·         Some children ask why. My two-year-old asks “where?” which can be difficult to answer when you have just said “Nope, your Daddy is super wrong about that.”

·         They like the monster at Home Depot and then tell everyone they meet about them which really just means you end up explaining all the decorations at Home Depot to strangers on the street which your two-year-old has stopped under the pretext of petting their dog but you know it’s really just so she can talk about those damn monsters.

·         Two-year-olds think its funny to call you stinky at family functions.

·         They like to twirl in circles and going around in a circle gives you the spins and activates your vomit reflex in a way you haven’t experienced since undergrad.

·         EVERYTHING they do results in a mess. EVERY.DAMN.THING.

·         Mine doesn’t eat which has to be the most incredibly annoying thing in the universe. Like, how does she survive on two noodles, a piece of ham, and milk all day? For mamas who are concerned that their kid doesn’t eat, rest assured, I feel your pain and am thinking about getting her a feeding tube. Maybe we could start a forcible eating group! Just kidding. Sort of.

·         Two-year-olds take every opportunity to throw themselves on the ground and act like they are one fire. There is no rhyme or reason to this generally but they act like a demon has possessed them roughly two to five times a day.

This weekend is Thanksgiving and I did earnestly try to give her away to a few loving relatives – only until she’s between six and ten but alas, no takers. They know, like I do, that this is a really special time in the lives of parents that extends the rite of passage that is birth and parenthood. It can be harrowing and it is no doubt difficult, but each day builds my immunity for what is to come. Each stage prepares up for what it around the corner. Each tantrum builds our resilience for the teenage meltdowns and inevitable parental disappointments that children visit on our doorstep.

Parenthood is a trial by fire. For me, there is no doubt about this. And the only thing that helps me not burn up in that fire is telling my story the way I see it and not allow others to write it for me.