Terrible Two's Officially Begin

We celebrated Tyler's 2nd birthday on Sunday, which began with a full-out screaming tantrum. He didn't want to change his diaper or get dressed, he wanted to go straight from crib upstairs to juice and waffles downstairs. Threw himself on the floor, crying for the waffles, wouldn't listen to negotiation or reason, kicked and screamed right off the changing table. It was amazing.

Next poor kid got his hand accidentally smooshed in a baby gate (I've never felt so guilty!) and it took him all morning to recover. Very moody, and he talked about the bad gate for a long time. After a long nap his hand appeared normal and he used it fine and seemed emotionally recovered.

Nana and Gampa's arrival boosted his spirits and he was pleased to pronounce Michelle's name properly over lunch. And he loved the carrot cake I made him (just like the cake Pooh and Rabbit share). However, it took only about 4 presents for him to totally lose it again.

He was so sweet, actually shaking with excitement opening presents, when he'd see a new construction vehicle toy under the wrapping paper, and do a little anxious dance while Daddy-O extracted the items from their vice-like boxes. But as each new toy presented a new challenge: the train cars unsnap from each other when he picks it up ("broken! ahhhhh!"); the bulldozer scoop won't stay down on the ground... as each time he was frustrated or couldn't get something to work on the first try he spiralled step by step down into a kind of toddler mania. I mean, we were there helping him, explaining things and showing him like we usually do, but he still grew very upset. At the end he was beside himself--playing with the bulldozer made him cry, me taking the bulldozer and hiding it made him cry. Finally a walk around the block with Daddy-O and Gampa calmed him down, sans toys of any kind!

FYI, Monday, his actual birthday, was great. Very low key, and he worked with his new toys with equinimity, and played with his Daddy-O on the floor while I fixed dinner. Very sweet, very domestic bliss. So there's that.

But, man, Sunday. That was rough. I was tearful myself. I cried about smashing his hand. I cried about not getting the house clean enough, about feeling incapable of doing much in my state. I cried that guests were late, and no other children came (tho I suspect that was a good thing in the end), and cried that I didn't give Tyler a proper party in my effort to keep attendance extremely low and stress-free (as compared to his traumatic big bash last year). I really have to wonder if, had I not been pregnant, would I have been able to handle all this much better. My guess is that yes, I could have. I ended up crying that I should have waited longer to have another baby, for Tyler's sake. That I'm in no condition to cope with a child throwing tantrums and getting moody. That I'm doing him a disservice.

I feel better today. As does Tyler. And in my head I know perfectly well that Tyler is a fine age to get a little brother or sister, that his frustrations and tantrums are completely normal (I read up on it), and that it's better to get through all of this, get the baby-making over with, and once I have the baby I will eventually regain my composure, and it will be great to have an addition to the family and all of this will be worth it.

What really amazes me is Ben's calm nature and ability to soothe and take charge when his family is just falling apart in tears around him. In a crisis there is no-one better. He is my rock, and a great boon to Tyler, who responds to him and is calmed and reassured by him and I think feels very secure to have a parent to be solid and unruffled by a tantrum. He's good for him. And I'm so grateful.

I'd lose my head otherwise. And I'm not sure I haven't already lost my head anyway! "Maybe that's not her head..." (yes, that's TMBG!)