The terrible two's

So far, the content on this blog has been light and cheery. Pics of cute kids and holiday get-togethers. Well, it's about to take on a dark side. I'm about to rant a bit about the "terrible two's."

It's an old phrase, a cliche' we've all heard. People say it, shake their head and smile. Some say it's not that bad, others say it really doesn't hit till age three. . . whatever. I'm here to tell you it's not a myth or something to joke about. It's real and it's happening right now to my sweet little Isabel.

I'm working on a scrapbook for my grandmother's b-day party. A while ago I asked her family and friends to send me pics and letters to go in it. Seems simple enough. I had to stress in my instructions "hard copies only, do not send me anything by e-mail." What, have I lost my mind? Are we back in the stone age? Nothing digital? So, what does this have to do with Isabel and the terrible two's??

I have only tried to use the photo lab at Walmart a few times this whole year and every time it's nothing short of a disaster. She's like a windup toy that goes nuts when you release it and then fizzles out- and this happens everytime we go in that store. Every time I'm in the lab to print pics, I spend more time cleaning up spilled drinks and snacks off the floor than ordering pics. I'm irritable. I can't concentrate. I rush through the pics, passing out snacks with one hand and tapping on the screen with the other. I don't take the time to position and crop and consider "would this make a nice enlargement?" This time, I ended up with an 8x10 of a huge tree and half of Ava.

And it's not just the photo lab. After that fiasco, we headed toward the storage supplies for more home organizing goodies (you'll hear about this happy topic in my next blog entry). Isabel dumps more ice so we stop to find a store employee to bring paper towels to wipe it up. (even in my most frazzled state, I always notify a store employee about potential hazards : ) Then I choose a lamp shade and place it in my buggy. Isabel promptly retrieves it and tears off the plastic. Great, hope it fits because I now own that lampshade. We select a few more supplies: hangers, hooks, and other things I can use the power drill to install, (again, happy subject). Isabel is tired of tearing on plastic packaging and develops a craving for cardboard instead. She chews on a package of hooks. ( the mangled packaging will cause delay and confusion later on in the check-out line as some of the barcodes are either soggy or completely gone.)

We to move on to groceries. It's then I realize with horror that my shopping list is no longer in the buggy, Isabel has tossed it. No big deal except I wrote it on some folded white papers I hurridly grabbed from the passenger seat of my car, and can't be sure just exactly how important those papers were. I panic.

For the next hour and a half I retrace every step. Asking store employees, getting down on my knees and looking under the shelves, peeking into trashcans (I realize I have reached a new low of what mothers do in desperation) By the way, there are trashcans on almost every aisle in the grocery side, and just a few scattered around the rest of the store! Seems like they're almost encouraging people to eat and toss! But that's beside the point. I checked customer service several times and finally gave up. They had obviously been found and were either a) dumped or b) being used to hack into my identity.

So two and a half hours later, I leave Walmart, once again defeated. In case you wonder why I don't just print my pics at home. . . remember that earlier blog entry about what I found in my printer? Here's a pic to refresh your memory:



That's a rotten banana and flies in case you are confused. (see, my printer was also a victim of the terrible two's)

Ok. So we had one bad day. That's hardly enough to label this age "terrible." Right?

In recent weeks, Isabel has started climbing like a monkey and also developed a fascination with bottles of medicine. That's a horrible combination!!! (we've spent 6 hours in the ER with suspected tylenol overdose and another day she got into my prenatals and folic acid supplements.) She dropped my cell phone in a bucket of water, has written on several walls and pieces of furniture, likes to sneak off and lather up with lotion and shaving cream, digs in the trash, has no fear of heights, has started wearing makeup, spills all her drinks on purpose and dumps her plate after every meal even though she gets in trouble every time she does it. She calls people, hangs up, then they call me back and I have no idea why. She loves to turn the dial on the dishwasher, so I discover after the load has finished that only the top rack got clean.

And the best part is- she doesn't turn two until December!!!!

follow up note: as Maw always says, "this too shall pass." Ava is now 5 and such thoughtful little helper. She picks up her messes, helps with chores, and uses good manners. I think back on Ava at age two, and sure enough I remember that year I was constantly searching for my only set of car keys. (I was left stranded a lot back then) We always found them weeks later, hidden in the toy box or the recliner. So, I'm just venting a little but I really know these are precious years and I'm gonna miss them one day!