Reasons the Two Year Old is Pissed

Ahh 2 year olds.  There's really nothing like them.  Combustible dynamite in a cute, little, baby package.  If someone could figure out how to weaponize two year olds, that person would rule the world.  They are irresistible in their cuteness and lovableness.  Yet, flip that switch and they are like wild banchees, running around naked, screaming injustice, beating on whatever thing or being stands in their way.  Then suddenly, back to the sweet, little cherub you know and love.  Two year olds run this world.  I bet most world leaders have a two year old that they end up running around, waiting on, trying to suppress the madness.



Cohen is a rare species of two year old. He doesn't get mad, he gets pissed.  Like instantly, and kid can hold a grudge.  And the things that set him off are just, well, ridiculous.

So as a warning to all of you out there who hope to get in the Co-man's good graces.  Here are the top 10 things that will PISS HIM OFF.  Beware.

Legal notice from Cohen: This list is in no way all encompassing.  The two year old is allowed, and should be expected, to lose his shit whenever he sees fit.  Just because something was okay yesterday, does not make it okay today.

1 - Putting his shoes on the correct feet on Wednesdays.  Twice now, when I've gotten the kids off to school, Cohen has lost his mind because I would not put the left shoe on the right foot and vice versa.

2 - Making him open his advent calendar in order.  I need to be sure that on the 5th of December we go back and open the 2nd of December...all because Santa's glove happened to be the picture in the 5th of December box.  Know what?  The effing chocolate wasn't even a glove, it was a Christmas tree...which pissed him off even more.

3 - I will not pour an entire box of cereal into his bowl.  He will kick, scream, throw, bawl when I refuse to open a regular box of cereal and not pour "allamen" into his little green bowl.  Eventually, hunger wins out in this scenario.  But whimpering will ensue between bites, because obviously the world is ending.

4 - No more green lollipops.  Cohen loves lollipops.  He asks for them constantly.  And he wants green ones.  But when you think about a bag of Dum-Dums, there are 4 different green wrapped lollipops: lemon-lime, pineapple, green apple, and watermelon.  He prefers green apple, because not only is it wrapped in green, the actual lollipop is green.  Since a bag of Dum-Dums has about 473 mystery flavored pops, that leaves only a few of the other flavors. When the green apple are gone, just buy a new bag.  Other colors are out to murder two year olds.  And those pretending to be green?  Lemon-lime, pineapple, watermelon - I'm looking at you.  Well those are the worst of all, they're traitors.



5 - I won't put on his "ice-skating-shoes" at bedtime.  Last night, 30 minutes after bedtime, Cohen decided that some shoes he owns are "ice-skating-shoes" and he needed to wear them.  I refused, because it was bedtime.  He cried for a solid 30 minutes and refused to move from the bottom step.

6 - Providing dinner in lieu of snacks.  Cohen "na yike dinner, mi yike nacks."  Snacks are way better than dinner and if you force dinner and deny snacks, you are satan's spawn and deserve to be destroyed.  Don't even talk about dessert.  Dessert is a given and if you take dessert away...well, we can't even talk about that.  The scars are too fresh.

7 - Wiping his hands with a napkin instead of letting him wash them in the bathroom sink.  After dinner, we make the older kids wash their hands and faces in the bathroom.  Cohen mostly gets wiped down because he's a disaster - when he eats, see #6 - but sometimes we'll let him wash up in the bathroom as well.  Make sure you read his mind though, because you'll never know which he actually wants otherwise.  That is until he's a crumbled mess on the kitchen floor, wailing for days.  Well, and then it's just too late and you've ruined everyone's life.

8 - Not allowing him to sit in Freddie's booster seat.  Cohen thinks he's as big as his siblings.  He won't sit in a highchair.  He hasn't worn a bib since he could pull it off.  He refuses to use sippy cups.  Car seats are no different.  He knows that he's not in the same type of seat as his big brother, and that is totally unacceptable and you are discriminating against him for his height.



9 - Helping him do anything he wants to do himself but doesn't have the physical ability to accomplish. Examples, unlocking the front door with a key.  Getting the mail.  Brushing his teeth. Turning on the water in the sink.  Turning off the water in the sink.  Unloading the dishwasher.  Checking dinner in the oven.  Stirring a boiling pot on the stove.  Buckling his carseat.  Zipping his coat.  

10 - Anyone but mommy doing anything for him.  Mommy must do everything, from wiping the bottom to providing water cups.  No one else must attempt to help Cohen or they will be met with a loud and resounding "NOOOOO, MOMMY DO IT!!!!!!"  Mommy is the only one who can be trusted with such delicate matters.



Two year olds have to be cute.  Have to be!  Would anyone deal with this from anyone but a two year old?  But we do deal, because they say things like "Mama, it's Bissmas time," and "Mama, zippidy do da my dacket," and "Dat a dood idea," and "let me-me see," and "Mama, I sow you."  And how can that even, ever be resisted?  It can't.  Absolutely can not be.  So he can spend 20 minutes naked in my room at 10 pm, screaming because I wouldn't let him bring cheese to bed with him - but all he has to do is say "Mama, I seep wit you?" and all is forgiven.

The P Word

So I did it.  I convinced myself that it was the right thing to do and now I am paying for it.  I can't go back.  I have to keep pushing forward.

I started potty training Cohen.

Excuse me while I scream and gouge my eyes out.

Is there anything worse than potty training?  Changing dirty, stinky diapers is way better than carefully removing, dumping, and rinsing out dirty, stinky underpants!

For awhile now, I've been thinking he was ready.  He was already asking to sit on the potty at times.  They were putting him on the potty at daycare on a regular basis.  He was telling me when he went so I could change him.  Classic "readiness" signs as outlined by the "experts."

Experts...they need to come hang out in my house and sit on the bathroom floor while holding a squirming, pissed-off two year old on the toilet.  All while trying not to get peed on.

Ainsley and Freddie were three or older when we really hit the potty training hard.  It was difficult, there were plenty of tears (mine) and tantrums (mine) and screaming (also mine)...but after about 2 weeks, I felt like we were pretty solid and the accidents quickly subsided.  It was around that two week mark that I felt like I could say "Yes, he/she is potty trained" and feel pretty confident that the child would let me know when he/she had to go.  I didn't feel the need to carry around an entire wardrobe and rolls of paper towels, just in case.

Well, we are on week three with Cohen, and though there have been wins...there have been lots of accidents, lots of extra clothes, lots of clean ups in public places.  I've never wanted to buy diapers so badly!

After a week, I was ready to throw the towel in.  I could not get him to sit on the potty for longer than 7 seconds.  During that time, he was able to dribble a little pee in the bowl and then proclaim "DONE!" and slide off the seat.  Just to run to the corner and pee and poop all over himself.

It was then that I decided we need to buy a little plastic potty.  Ainsley and Freddie had not used one.  They were older and taller when they potty trained.  But I bought one because his little toes barely brush the step stool when he sits on the big potty.

We had major success.  Not only was he more comfortable, now he could do it on his own and that is just what my stubborn, independent, third-born needed.  He could do it "BY MINE SEFF!!!"  That night, I finished my dinner and got up to find him standing over the little potty, Star Wars underpants around his ankles, bowl full of...everything, and him exclaiming "Yook Mommy!  I DID IT!"

I thought we were home free.  He lulled me into a false sense of victory and accomplishment.  I was feeling so proud of us.  We actually could potty train a child at a reasonable age.  The feeling was short lived.  Yesterday I threw away an entire outfit at a playground just moments after putting him on the potty.

So that's where we are.  He's definitely holding it and he's telling me about 30% of the time.  But I'm still asking regularly and hearing "NO, my already went" or "NO, I no yike potty."

Deep breaths.  Deep breaths.  This too shall pass.  And then we will be diaper free.  And it will be awesome.  It's just going to be a shit show (literally) getting there.