Cloudy with a Chance of Shankings

Loren is almost two years old.  Almost.  But some days it doesn’t seem to matter.  The “terrible” is coming.  We get glimpses every so often.  Yesterday was one of those days.

Amid the pouring rain, we were also showered with tantrums and craziness throughout the day.  A lot of it was of the garden-variety “I’ve decided to disobey my father at every turn” sort of thing.  Attempts to discipline were all met with Loren throwing himself on the floor or chucking whatever toy he had across the room.  

Normally I can deal with this level of nonsense.  However, a few events stood out:

-Loren attempted to shank me with a screwdriver.  This was not an accident.  I told him he couldn’t do something, and in a brief fit of rage he stabbed in the direction of my mid-section with the screwdriver he was holding.  Now, I know you’re thinking “why did he have a screwdriver in the first place?”  I get that.  It just happens to be his favorite tool outside of a hammer (aka a “wah-wah”) and a saw (a “cut-cut”).  He’s been playing with real tools for at least a year now.  I generally trust him with them, because he is usually quite careful.  A toddler playing with real tools is normal here.  Frankly, I’m just glad he had the screwdriver yesterday and not his other two favorites.

-That incident landed him in his crib (probably more for his own safety than mine – I was ready to kill him).  I let him wail for a minute or two before going back in to explain to him the error of his ways.  True to how the day had thus far progressed, there was no clear means of reconciliation.  The tantruming continued.  And then came the demands: “Monkeys! Monkeys!” he said (asking for his monkey pacifier and blanket).  ”No buddy, no monkeys right now, you are in trouble.”  Undeterred, he ups the ante: “Elmo! Elmo!”  Like I’m going to let him watch a movie right now.  ”No way buddy.”  He flops down onto his butt, and in the most dramatic fashion waves his hand as it to shoo me away and says “coshit” (aka “close it,” meaning close the door to his room).  As if he’d rather stay in solitary confinement than face a world without his monkeys or elmo.  ”Coshit, father…I’ve seen enough of your cruelty.”

-Finally, Loren and Ruthie have been sharing a bath for the past few weeks.  It is absolutely adorable.  Loren generally does his own thing, pouring water in cups and swimming his whale around.  Ruthie loves being in the bath.  She erupts in these huge smiles, cackles out here and there and kicks her legs like she is just high on life.  What’s more, Ruthie adores her big brother.  She smiles when she hears his voice and in the tub this is just magnified times ten.  She watches him and is just enchanted.  It melts your heart.

So naturally, while Ruthie is in mid-”I love my big brother” mode, Loren decides to quickly dump a whole eight ounce cup of water in her face.  Bath time over.

We cut the whole bed time routine short.  Loren went to bed without any snuggling or book time.  We didn’t talk about our day (“talk-day, talk-day” as he calls it).  It was bath, pjs, bed by 7:30pm.  I was livid.  After dealing with his evil-twin antics all day, this was the final straw. Pour, innocent, defenseless Ruthie got a face full of water.  Argh.

I expect tantrums.  I expect the two of us to butt heads on the daily.  Most days are great despite those happenings.

Today has been wonderful despite the occasional rough patch. But yesterday…let’s just be thankful for the cute pictures of him playing in the rain, and hope that’s how I remember it.