If you are waiting to hear the outcome from this post, well....get in line. Me too.
If you checked in to hear me bitch about my toddler then you have come to the right place. After reading this post you will wonder why I want to spend extra time with our little monster. Again, get in line...I am wondering the same thing today, too. :-)
Here's a little poem I wrote that pretty much sums up where I'm at with the Terrible Twos right now. And I am not a big fan of poetry. I did all I could in college to avoid taking a poetry class. I think I begged my advisor and maybe bribbed her with some Olive Garden gift certificates if I could only just NOT take poetry. I don't like it. Are you pickin' up what I'm puttin' down?
But this, THIS is poetry that makes sense to me.
To My Dear, Sweet Two Year Old
When you cry I want to drink.
When you scream I want to drink more.
When you cry and scream until you throw up I want to break out the hard liquor and a straw.
When you whine I want to inject the vodka straight into my veins.
Oh, my two year old, don't cry because I won't let you eat ice cream for breakfast.
Oh, my two year old, don't scream because I put you in a time out. For the 12th time.
Oh, my two year old, don't kick me when I am trying to change your diaper.
Oh, my two year old, can I take a nap?
Dear sweet little 30 pounder, love of my life,
Give me a break.
Dear sweet size 3T-wearing and defiant child of mine.
I love you so.
But next time you whine and cry and scream...
Go find daddy first.
You tired her out.
And the vodka didn't help, either.