Life is getting rough…

Looks like I’m entering the “terrible twos” a bit early!  Mummy and Daddy are exhausted and not super excited about it…especially with a baby brother coming into the mix.  Lately I throw never-ending tantrums over, well, over nothing.  Like dinner last night.  Granted I was tired, but still.  After insisting on “blue cake! blue cake” Mummy made me some blue cupcakes (Daddy wanted some too).  Her first mistake…

Here is an example of our evenings lately:

For dinner, as the “blue cakes” were baking, I refused to sit in my chair.  I wanted my cake NOW.  Then I pointed to Mummy’s chair and said “I sit?” so I got to sit there.  Then I decided that Mummy should sit ON the chair with me, next to me.  I asked sweetly and patted the space next to me.  As soon as she did, I went ballistic and started screaming and crying “No Mama! No Mama!” and physically shoved her away.  Then Daddy strapped me into my chair…still wailing.  For a full 15 minutes I just cried and wailed.  Mummy and Daddy tried to wait it out.  No dice.  They calmly explained that I had to eat dinner before I could have my cake and that the cakes were still baking anyway.  (Mummy note:  Reasoning with a 22 month old does NOT work!).  Still wailing and sobbing, big fat tears streaming down my snotty face (yes, I still have a bit of a  cold) I continued to sit…and cry.

Then, I wanted Daddy (he’s all I want lately…it makes Mummy sad).  Finally when my silly parents realized I was NOT going to stop my tantrum Daddy picked me up and I sat on his lap for a while…after a big hug (again, I was so tired).  Then I wanted “Elmo!” so Mummy tried to find me an Elmo video on her laptop (which is ont he kitchen table because she works there a lot).  No dice, so I got to watch videos of me for a while.  I sat, nicely, and stated, glassy-eyed from being so tired, and watched myself in videos…while eating a blue cupcake.  For dinner.  Really, a cupcake and ovaltine for dinner.  No parent of the year awards in this house!!

At least I slept through the night!  Though when I woke up I wanted “My Dada!” and when Mummy came in (Daddy was getting dressed) I refused to get out of the crib without “My Dada!”  I yelled “No Mama! No!” and pushed her belly (early sibling rivalry??) and sat back in my crib.  She finally got me out with the promise of me high-fiving one of the monkeys on my wall.  Then, I refused to get my jammies off (I held the sleeves in my hands so my arms couldn’t come out) and get changed into a not sopping wet, heavy and saggy diaper.  “I play? I play!”  Finally I got to play until Daddy came in a few minutes later.  Somehow, with much crying, Daddy managed to get me changed and downstairs.  I had a good (2 eggs, some toast, some milk and juice) breakfast…probably because of my poor dinner…and made it to school.

We’re all exhausted…

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