Barking Mad

Little Miss Marker

I don't even think there are words...

This is what happens when I take my eyes off of her just long enough to vacuum the hallway.  When I asked her what exactly she thought she was doing, she told me...

She told me she just wanted to paint her nails.  

Then she mentioned she wanted some kitty cat whiskers on her face like the ones she got at Montessori a couple of weeks ago.

She further told me that she needed some lip gloss to go with the kitty cat whiskers.

Thank God for baby wipes and bathtubs.  That's all I have to say about that!

Meltdown Number 332

As I write this, I am sitting here listening to the above referenced Meltdown Number 332 of the day, courtesy of the Little Imp.   What the  ???????   PMS already?  Isn't she a bit young for that?  She's been such an irritable cow today.  Honestly, I don't know what bug crawled up her bum. 

I am vacillating between wanting to pull my hair AND hers out, eat my entire Valium necklace and run away from home -  all at the same time.

I don't know what's happened to bedtime around here.  We have suddenly gone from peaceful routines with hugs and kisses, cuddles and snuggles and then into bed with promises to "see you later alligator, in a while crocodile" to an all out scream-fest. 

She's angry and she wants everyone to know about it.  I'm sure the neighbours think we must be pulling her toenails out, one at a time, based on all the commotion and screams.  I tell ya, she's throwing the mother of all wobblies right now.

She's not ill...

She's not wet...

She's not hungry...

She's not thirsty...

She's not frightened of anything...

She's has her beloved Wiggles CD (which she has listened to at least 557,000 times by now) playing softly in the background...

She has Big Bird, Jesus Christ (don't ask me why she named one of her doll baby's JC...she just did! Perhaps it could have something to do with the fact that I walk around the house uttering it under my breath 721 times a day), cheeky cat, black kitty, and Florida -  a bright pink teddy bear my sister brought with her on a recent visit...

She has her blankies and her pillow...

She's had 122 additional hugs and kisses.  My lips have lost all feeling from all the extra kisses...

Yet she still stands there and screams at the top of her lungs that she doesn't want to go to sleep and she wants her daddy to rock her, which he has done four times already tonight.

She is two.  I am thirty nine.   Any bets on who makes it to their next birthday?

Holy Terrors Batman, She's Two!!!!!!

Not that it comes as any great revelation that the Little Imp is two.  She's been two for almost four months now.  However, she's been playin' possum at the "terrible" part of it.  Until today.   Oh.  My. Gosh! 

As I type this she is standing in her bed screaming her little lungs out about how I am mean and not nice.  Ok, so maybe I am.  Maybe I even deserve the Meanest Mommy of the Year Award.  Maybe I'm even so terrible, and horrible that I am worthy of the title, Mommy Dearest.   If you listen to all the caterwalling coming from the Little Imp you'd certainly think so.   

What, m'dears, happened to bring about this morning's meltdown?  I'm so glad you asked.

It all revolves around potty-training.  She actually ASKED this morning to go pee.  So I sat her down on her little potty chair where she did absolutely nothing for fifteen minutes but asked for toilet paper.  So I gave her a couple of pieces and she wiped herself, even if there was nothing to wipe.  She promptly stood up and said, "I all done, washa hands now!"  I told her she'd have the throw the toilet paper away and that's when all hell broke loose.  I ended up chasing a nekkid, screaming, foaming at the mouth (ok, maybe she wasn't really foaming at the mouth, but she was acting rabid enough) toddler through the house, hoping and praying she wouldn't pee or poo mid-tantrum.   With all the commotion she was making  you'd have thought I'd destroyed one of her beloved Wiggles DVD's in front of her.

Once I wrangled the toilet paper away from her and managed to get her writhing, kicking, screaming bottom diapered again, that's when she hauled off and slapped me and then for good measure, kicked me.  So, um yeah, she got her little bum hauled off and plopped in bed for a well deserved time out. 

She's not real happy with me right now.   The feeling is mutual!