I have never experience terrible twos like I am with Quinn. No, really. I thought the girls went through them, but I now realize they were just having a bad day every now and then. Quinn? Well, he has a bad day every 3 seconds.
Me: Quinn. Sit in your seat and eat your dinner.
Q: No, Mama.
And then he proceeds to crumple onto the floor and cry/scream.
Chris: Quinn. It is time to take a shower (or bath, depending on the mood/day).
Q: No, Dada. No, Dada.
Chris: Yes. You have to. You need to be clean for tomorrow.
And then he proceeds to make himself dead weight so that you can't pick him up. And he cries/screams while doing this.
Me: Quinn. We have to put your pajamas on now.
Q: No. Me nakey.
Me: No, Quinn, nakey time is over. Its time for pajamas.
Q: Nooooooooooooo. No, Mama.
And then he kicks over the basket of Ike's toys while grunting. Sometimes he then picks them up and hurls them across the room while grunting. And then I get onto him. And then he lays on the floor and cries/screams.
I mean, Sweet Jesus, give me a break, kid. I work all day. I am in counseling. I really just need for you to cut me (and everyone else in our house) just a little slack. Life doesn't have to be this hard.
Ultimately, I have no one but myself to blame. I was a horrible child. I broke my leg when I was around 18 months throwing a temper tantrum. My parents had to drag me (seriously. I was laying on my back being dragged out of Zayre's while screaming) out of places. I told my father "no" until I was like, 9 years old...and with God as my witness, he beat my hiney every time. And now, it has come back, full circle. My son is the devil. And he comes by it naturally.
p.s. I wore the gigantic earrings to work today and received many compliments. Hooray!