Things have been just moving along. We've managed to make it through several months into the terrible two's without much trouble. We've had ups and downs, but nothing life shattering.
Until last Friday.
Abby has become very demanding, and very resistant to someone telling her she can't have her way. This usually involves getting dressed, or wanting snacks. It hasn't been a big problem. She could be easily redirected or distracted.
But it appears, all other tactics have failed.
From the moment we got home at 5:00 on Friday, she whined. "I want this snack, not that snack. I want this cartoon, not that cartoon. Daddy went out, I want to go with daddy. But I don't want to go with Daddy and ride, buckled in my seat. Daddy came back. Woody went out and ran away. Daddy is mad at Woody, Abby is mad at Woody. I want another snack, I don't want to go out to eat with friends. No, I don't want that salsa, I want that one. But, that salsa is too hot. I don't want to sit in this chair, I want to sit in that chair. I don't want to sit at all, I want to run around. I don't want to wear my buckle on the way home. I don't want to listen to Daddy. I don't want to get my jammies on."
Boom.......
That was the sound of our household blowing up.
Yelling and screaming. Doors slamming. And crying, lots of crying.
I took myself outside. I couldn't handle it anymore. Everyone was on edge and just tired of the whining and it just exploded. And then I collapsed. And I cried. And I cried.
Gene and I don't argue. We don't yell at each other. We don't fight. I've always been proud that we can read each other well enough that we don't have to have confrontation like that. But I had had enough and I yelled. And I got mad. And it hurt.
I stood outside, in the darkness, and just let all the emotions out. It came from deep within. It was loud and it was strong. I couldn't stop it. I don't remember ever crying like that. A true, deep, painful cry.
Parenting is the hardest job I've ever done. There are no rights and no wrongs. And its all about compromise and communication. And that evening, we all failed. It was a spiral, and one I hope we don't have to go down again, but I'm sure we will. I think we've just touched the edge of the terrible two's and its only going to get more complicated.
But I think I learned a few things. I learned I need to step away when it gets too much. Just take a breather. Let Gene handle it, and handle it how he sees appropriate. Don't undermind his decisions and override them. I learned that raising my voice doesn't help anyone, it only hurts, and mostly it hurts me. I learned that all the patience I did think I had, its not enough. A two year old has more willpower that you could ever imagine.
That evening, after the sonic blow up at 922, I snuggled in the bed with Abby. She laid next to me and touched my face. She was charming and sweet. She smiled and laughed at me. Its like she knew she had hurt me and she was sorry. She cuddled with me and told me she loved me. It was at that moment that I was thankful to be a parent.
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