I believe that I now know why God made two year olds so cute. And yes…it’s 3 am.
Tonight everyone decided that no one was going down without a fight. Really it wasn’t just tonight, it’s been three.long.nights in a row. Much to everyone’s dismay, tonight happened to be “Momma ain’t playin night.” Momma is not getting a hundred cups of water for well hydrated kids, or rescuing bears, taming lions or feeding already full kids. I am not reading the entire Library of Congress. No, tonight, Momma ain’t playin.
* Enter two year old stage left*
He abides by his own set of rules. He is both lawmaker and judge. And little did I know, it was actually “Baby is playing night. All.night.long.
Book after book, seemingly endless game of peek-a-boo after seemingly endless game of peek-a-boo. Ongoing pleas for wah-wah, false alarms for the potty, def con 5 level meltdowns.
Maya Angelou might know why the caged bird sings…but I know why God made two year olds cute.
They sing, they dance, they say cute things. They even closely resemble the baby you fell in love with. Then one day, somewhere around their second birthday, they lure you into their vortex of tyranny. It’s exhausting, it’s humiliating, and it’s downright weakening some days. But at the end of the day when they collapse in surrender, you catch a glimpse of that baby who stole your heart and once again you decide that this whole parenting thing is rewarding after all and they won’t be this small forever. *sigh*