Caution: Toddler Crossing

I’d heard a lot about the “Terrible Twos” but until recently had not experienced them firsthand.  My dear daughter, now a happy and curious 2-year-old, had always been fairly even-tempered and well-behaved, with minimal tantrums and few toddler meltdowns.

We had breezed past her 2^nd birthday; a little smug, in fact, that we seemed to be missing the terrible twos.  Our daughter was continually praised for her good behavior, and I thought we must be immune to this toddler tradition – wow, lucky us!  That’s not to say she was always an angel, or didn’t often get on our nerves, but it had always been manageable…until one fateful winter day.

She woke up fussy one Sunday morning and refused to do anything she normally enjoyed.  She wouldn’t eat breakfast, drink her milk, or watch her favorite cartoons.  Instead, she insisted on sitting in one corner of the kitchen screaming “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy” until I’d come pick her up.  I tried reaching into my mommy bag of tricks – reading stories, pushing her in her favorite car, putting in her favorite videos, and even bribing her with her favorite toddler treats.  Nothing was working.  Today was particularly tough since daddy was in the middle of a home improvement project, and I was alone with our fussy toddler.  I’ll admit to hiding upstairs for a while in hopes of drowning out her persistent “Mommy Mommy” cries.  She was actually starting to frighten me!

I think the terrible twos should come with a warning label - Caution: Rough Road Ahead: Toddler Crossing! – or at least a flashing light on the top of toddlers’ heads so a mommy can be prepared for what’s in store. 

After a two-hour nap, she picked up right where she had left off – and I wasn’t sure we’d make it through the rest of the day.  I resorted to a peace offering of raisins and milk so I could attempt to make dinner in peace.  When that didn’t work, I called in reinforcements, and daddy took a break from his project to try his hand at taming the toddler beast.

When dinner was ready, we sat around the table for a rarely made home-cooked meal – it was only mac ‘n cheese with hot dogs – but I’m not much of a cook so this was somewhat of a special occasion.  Unfortunately, my daughter was not interested in this mom-made cuisine and rejected the meal by throwing her food and wielding her fork as a weapon.  So much for a nice family dinner.

I was at the end of my rope as she peeled her diaper off and began running around the house.  This would be a good time for a bath I thought – playing in the bubbles is always a highlight of the day – so I lured her upstairs and into the tub.

During her bath, she returned to the normally happy toddler I knew and loved.  Trying to bathe her as she squealed with delight, I was halfway in the tub myself – up to my elbows in bubbles – and I sighed in frustration as I was anxious to get on with the evening.  My aggravation seemed to amuse her and she said, “Mommy funny.”  Yeah, real funny – but I couldn’t help myself – I had to grin.

She must have sensed that I was at the breaking point ,and she tried to be helpful.  For the first time ever, she picked up the washcloth and began cleaning her body parts, as well as some of mine.  Kids seem to have an uncanny way of knowing just when you can’t take any more.  It must be something they learn on the playground:  how to redeem yourself when your parents are ready to snap.

As I scooped her out of the bath and into a hooded towel, she said, “Bath fun…I love you, Momma.”  Now how could I stay angry at such a sweet little princess?

Unfortunately, her good mood lasted about as long as the bubbles, and as soon as we were back downstairs she returned to toddler tyrant mode.  I dealt with my own anger and frustration by eating an entire sleeve of Thin Mints (minus the 3 I gave my daughter to keep her quiet for 5 minutes).  Only a few minutes until bedtime so I hoped the chocolate would give me the strength to press on.

As I expected, bedtime was not without drama.  She talked in her crib for 30 minutes before throwing a huge tantrum (I entered the room to find that I had left the light on and the shadows were scaring her).  I spent several minutes rocking her to sleep before slinking out of the room on my hands and knees.  What a way to end the day – but at least my sweet girl and I had made peace – for now.  Tomorrow would be another unpredictable day.  I could only hope that smoother roads lay  ahead.

Stephanie McCarty, is a freelance writer and public relations consultant.  She also works part-time as Public Policy Coordinator for her local Chamber of Commerce, and is co-president of the local chapter of the Association for Women in Communications.  Stephanie worked in PR and media relations full-time for more than a decade, before starting her own writing and consulting career.  She grew up in Florida, where she earned her B.A. in English (Creative Writing) from The Florida State University.  Stephanie has lived in various parts of the country, including Washington DC, where she earned an M.A. in Political Management from The George Washington University.  While in DC, she worked as a press secretary on Capitol Hill, and in the public affairs departments of a national public relations agency, a large university, and a major corporation.  She has also served as spokesperson for two political campaigns. 

Stephanie says, "During my professional tenure, I have worked on political campaigns, in the halls of Congress, and in corporate PR – but nothing could have prepared me for the roller-coaster ride that is motherhood." 

Stephanie lives in Central Ohio with her husband and daughter, who is the joy of her life. She credits her little girl with inspiring her to find her true writing passion.

Stephanie's website, www.fumblingtowardmotherhood.com, is currently under construction. For more information, please contact her at stephanie@fumblingtowardmotherhood.com.