My 13-Year Old Toddler
We have officially entered the testing boundaries era or more commonly known as the terrible twos. Dun dun duuuuunnnnnn.
For the past few months I feel like I have entered a time machine and skipped 11 years of my son’s life. My small, often cute toddler, who has just started to find his way in this world has suddenly become an angsty teen. His articulate, ever growing vocabulary seems to have stilted at one very annoying 2-letter word — NO.
No. No. No. No. No. No. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
If I had a pound for every time Louis has said the word “No” over the past 2 months I would be sipping cocktails on my own private island by now.
To put it simply, and sorry to swear so early on but it’s massively fucking annoying! I’m like a daily ticking time bomb, my patience evaporating like one of those sand egg timers. I then turn over, refill and start the process all bloody over again. I think I am going slowly insane.
“Louis do you want to play in the garden?” “No.”
“Louis so you want to go and see Nanny and Grandad?” “No.”
“Louis so you want to go to the park?” “No.”
“Louis do you want a piece of chocolate?” “No. Yes”. Shocker, this is the one where he quickly changes his mind.
On top of this, he has become infuriatingly indecisive, or should I say contrary.
Everything is this, then that, then this, then that again.
“Louis would you like a drink?” (he nods). I reach for his orange cup. “No. Green one” he replies. I reach for the green cup instead. “No orange one”. WTF? Ok, I reach for the orange again. “No green one” — right now you’re just taking the p**s!
And it’s not just the indecisiveness it’s the complete meltdown at the end of a no win battle. However you end it, he wants it the other way. If I stick with the orange cup, it’s a 15 minute tantrum screaming “I want the green one!”.
Throw on top the daily battle of Louis wanting everything his own way; it’s certainly a mentally challenging time.
Just a few weeks ago on a seaside trip to Herne Bay with me and his Nanny, I had to pull over after he had an out-and-out shit fit. The exact cause of which, I am still unsure. He was asking for a dummy but he had decided that he only wanted me to give it to him, not Nanny. When he was told to stop being difficult he then went into a temper rage throwing the dummy on floor. Luckily I had a spare. Nanny stretching her arms like one of Disney’s Incredibles’, retrieved my bag from the backseat and found another dummy. Like a well-oiled machine, (having lots of experience dealing with awkward toddlers), she passed it to me and I in turn passed it to Louis. But Louis had now decided that he was going to refuse the dummy point blank and threw it on the floor. His rage getting worse. One more try. (Luckily I had more then one spare dummy). You guessed it, 3 dummies ended up thrown on the car floor. Louis was now red faced, screaming “Mummy” and on the verge of hyperventilating. I tried to calmly explain that I was driving and was unable to give him the ‘hug’ he was now screaming for.
9 minutes from our destination, the excruciating noise forced me to pull over into a service station. I got out, slid into the backseat and gave a now hyperventilating Louis a big hug. He instantly calmed. He inhaled a deep breath and it was clear, he had emotionally worn himself out. Scared of making the wrong move, I slowly retrieved a dummy, popped it back in his mouth and jumped back into the drivers seat. 5-mins later, when back on the road, he was fast asleep. So much for a fun day at the seaside Louis.
This is just one small example of the type of issues we have been experiencing on a daily basis.
It’s everything.
He wants to brush his teeth, then he doesn’t, then he does.
He wants to wash his hands in the restaurant toilets, then he decides he doesn’t‚ we leave; the same agitated moan begins as he now decides he wants to wash his hands again. We head back in. “NO” he shouts. So now I take him back to our table whilst he has the ‘going limp’ meltdown in front of a busy restaurant. I try to pull him off the floor, to save my embarrassment as other restaurant goers look over, but I can’t get a grip on him (little bugger!). The changing mat and wipes I was clutching spray onto the floor. Luckily he had an ice cream waiting at the table, which along with a bit of brain freeze, snapped him out of his current state. I’m not ashamed to admit that the word ‘treat’ has started featuring heavily in our household… bribery I hear you say? …we all do it right?
He wants to sit on Grandmas high stool, but then gets scared so I take him off. Then he wants to sit back on it and screams when he does.
On a recent holiday, his Nanny had bought two Thomas and Friends toothbrushes for him and his cousin. Louis got first pick, blue (Thomas) or green (Percy). He chose Percy, which surprised me but he was adamant. Then every single time he brushed his teeth for the rest of the holiday he screamed for the blue one.
Louis woke really early one morning so I encouraged him to give me some snuggles in my bed (that classic parenting skill where we forget the hours of sleep training, in favour for a few more minutes in bed.) But full of beans and acrobating over my face, he wanted to go downstairs. I ask him to go and play in his bedroom. He refused. I drag my lazy butt out of bed, and all of a sudden, he doesn’t want to go downstairs he wants to play in his room!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
We spoke to Nanny on the phone, but he didn’t want to talk or say hello. I hung up. He cried “Talk with Nanny, I want to tallllkkkk wiiiiitthhhh Nannnnnyy”. I call her back; he goes silent. Fucker. I hang up. Cue 10-minute meltdown.
We spoke to Nanny on the phone, but he didn’t want to talk or say hello. I hung up. He cried “Talk with Nanny, I want to tallllkkkk wiiiiitthhhh Nannnnnyy”. I call her back; he goes silent. Fucker. I hang up. Cue 10-minute meltdown.
For a short spurt, our lovely relaxing bedtime story time ended with a tantrum because I didn’t read every single book on his shelf. Currently, ‘The Tiger Who Came To Tea’ and ‘A Visit To London for Thomas The Tank Engine’ are his favourite. Last night after selecting 3 others, I told him it was bedtime. He then asked for me to read the Thomas book. I gave in. Then when that was over he cried for the tiger book.
Enough.
Night night Louis.
Cue meltdown!
He now tells James and I to stop doing things.
I mean I am no Katherine Jenkins, but I can hold a tune. But where as when he was little he used to sit in awe as I serenaded him to tunes from musical theatre, he now says “Stop Singing Mummy” and puts his hands over his ears. Rude!
James went to give him a goodnight kiss the other night and Louis shouted “Stop Daddy”. This quickly ended in an indecisive, I want a kiss, no I don’t, flinging his body around moment… all on the hallway stairs. When James gave in to give him another kiss, he turned his head away. I actually found it hilarious but had to hide my smirk.
When I lifted him into the bath and accidentally lightly scratched his back (I would like to add there was no mark, it was like a feather touching him), he turned sharply and said “not funny Mummy”, like I had meant to do it!
In soft play, after telling him he needed to keep his socks on, he positioned himself right in the centre where I could not reach him, threw them on the floor and run off. A little girl, about 5 years kindly collected them for me and pushed them through the netting. I then had to navigate the cushioned assault course and force Louis, now kicking and screaming to put them back on.
Even over the past week we have gone up a notch in the moodiness and answering back ranks.
The other day he actually slammed the door to his toy room on me. He just said “bye Mummy”.
And now, when asked not to do something he simply responds “I Am”.
Me — “Louis can you stop clicking your Thomas train next to Daddy’s head while he is still sleeping”
Louis — “I am”.
Me — “Yes I know you are, but can you not!!!!!!”
Attitude is here in force.
Do you remember the Harry Enfield Kevin and Perry sketch? Sulky boy teenagers that acted like weird, incoherent descendants of aliens rather then humans raised in a pretty normal middle class household. Conversations with their parents became a grunt or a huff and ended in stomping off to their rooms, hunched over with their arms swinging around.
I thought I had a good 13 years before I encountered the moody years — but oh my how I was mistaken.
In summary the phrase ‚ terrible twos‚ doesn’t just relate to being a bit naughty, for me the terrible twos has bought mischief along with miserable tantrums, mega rattiness and put simply — an attitude problem!
It is a trying age, one that makes me want to reach for a bottle of wine, when I am not even a very big drinker. However saying all of this, it is also an incredible time; just watching them advance day by day. The phrases and words they start using. The interaction with toys, the outdoors, people.
I’m sure it’s a phase and one that will change and evolve.
The best piece of advice I was ever given from another parent was this.
Louis was a baby, going through teething and refusing to sleep at night. I was sat in a café and he was performing. A Lady next to me had a little girl, she looked about 3 or 4 years old. I turned and said “does it get easier”. She grinned and replied
“It never gets any easier. It just gets different”.
