A month ago, I wrote about how having two year-old twins rocked. My girls had just turned two at the time of this post. Surprisingly enough, only one MoM, who had herself lived to see the other side of two, commented that I may want to reserve judgment on this issue.
For the love of all that is holy, would it have killed me to wait one month to write a post about raising two year-old twins? I was most definitely still riding a sugar high from all the Elmo cupcakes and ice cream cake. Folks, consider this a formal retraction of my prior post.
The past month has been hard – really hard. Two has hit me like a ton of bricks and continues to seriously kick my ass. At this point, I don’t even know if I can articulate exactly what it is that I find so challenging about this age. If I had to answer this question after the weekend I have had, I would honestly say Every.Freaking.Thing. Lack of self control (being told it’s time to clean up the Play Doh yields Exorcist-like tantrums), extreme lack of cooperation, failure to successfully transition from one activity to another (considered a fail for me if kicking and/or screaming occurs and if said transition takes longer than 25 minutes), mealtimes, bathtimes (specifically, washing of the hair), car rides, bedtimes (fielding repeated requests to put socks on stuffed animals and/or swaddle them like a burrito), and the list goes on…
Lately, I just feel like nothing is easy. The only time there is any peace and quiet around here is when Sesame Street is on. Since I limit their TV time to one episode per day, this amounts to about 60 minutes broken down into two, thirty-minute intervals. Yes, some would consider me a Sadist.
There are, thankfully, a couple of fun aspects of two so far. Language acquisition and usage is totally skyrocketing and phrases like, “I just love you so much” have been known to squeak out here and there. I also love to watch the interaction between my girls. Their relationship has hit a totally cool level now that they are better able to express themselves.
In summary, the village can stop looking for it’s idiot: you have found her. I will never again make sweeping judgments about an entire year of toddlerhood when I am only a few measly days into it. Aaaahhh… and some say three is when it really gets tough.