Terrible Two
I had errands to take care of, so I told the kids to get their shoes on and go potty.
Then it began.
Baby Bee climbed Little Man's toy shelf and knocked over a box of Legos. Little Man yelled. She began to cry and morphed into a lump on the floor.
A few moments later, I was brushing Tater's hair and trying to explain the importance of brushing ALL of the hair, not just the the hair in the front.
Baby Bee walked into the room and started touching Tater's stuff. Tater yelled at her to get out. Again, she resembled a writhing blob on the floor.
Next, I attempted to gently brush and pull Baby Bee's hair up so it wouldn't be in her eyes. She screamed the entire time. When I finished, she hid under a pillow on her bed.
I opened the garage and told everyone to load up. Tater loaded. Little Man loaded. Baby Bee refused to move.
When I moved the pillow, I noticed that Baby Bee had removed and disposed of her ponytail holder. Her chin-length bangs covered her eyes and stuck to her wet face.
I buckled my screaming, kicking, shaggy toddler into her car seat straps and left the house.
The ride to the doctor's office was uneventful. I only needed to pick up a new box of allergy shots, and I knew we would only be there a few minutes. I thought things would be fine. Boy was I WRONG!
Upon arrival, I attempted to put Baby Bee's sandals on her feet. As soon as I got one on she would take the other one off. Finally, the shoes stayed on and I got her out of the car. She melted into a puddle in the parking lot and refused to get up.
Around this time, Little Man tattled on his big sister. Apparently, Tater said that I was mean.
It took about 10 minutes for Baby Bee to finally decide that she didn't want to be left in the parking lot and to realize that she had to do the walking herself.
I left my older two kids in the foyer with crying Baby Bee and signed in with the nurse. Then I sent the older two into the waiting room while I held my still angry toddler.
Baby Bee finally quietened enough for me to take her into the office. She wasn't happy, quiet, or still, but it was a little better.
When I walked into the waiting room, Tater and Little Man were fighting about a lost paper clip. Ugh!
The nurse kindly laughed and we joked about taking Valium and giving some Haldol to Baby Bee. She game me my new box of shots and we were on our way.
Once again, Baby Bee's meltdown heated up in the foyer. She refused to walk, so I walked out of the building without her. Of course, she ran after me, and I turned back to get her.
Just as I was walking back into the building I heard a woman yelling from the second story balcony of the foyer, "Who's child is this?!"
Some maintenance men (who had see everything) calmly explained to the woman that I was trying to teach my child.
As I picked up Baby Bee, the lady yelled at me, "This is a place of business...Take her out of here." Obviously, her business was very important to her.
I looked up at the obese, middle-aged, overly made-up woman and yelled back, "Get real. This is a pediatrician's office!"
I was almost in tears, but managed not cry as I headed to the car.
Baby Bee screamed as I put her in the car seat, complained that her straps were too tight, and kicked her shoes off again.
As we were leaving the parking lot, Baby Bee calmed down and asked if we could go out for ice cream.
I responded, "NO WAY!" and Baby Bee wailed again.
Then it began.
Baby Bee climbed Little Man's toy shelf and knocked over a box of Legos. Little Man yelled. She began to cry and morphed into a lump on the floor.
A few moments later, I was brushing Tater's hair and trying to explain the importance of brushing ALL of the hair, not just the the hair in the front.
Baby Bee walked into the room and started touching Tater's stuff. Tater yelled at her to get out. Again, she resembled a writhing blob on the floor.
Next, I attempted to gently brush and pull Baby Bee's hair up so it wouldn't be in her eyes. She screamed the entire time. When I finished, she hid under a pillow on her bed.
I opened the garage and told everyone to load up. Tater loaded. Little Man loaded. Baby Bee refused to move.
When I moved the pillow, I noticed that Baby Bee had removed and disposed of her ponytail holder. Her chin-length bangs covered her eyes and stuck to her wet face.
I buckled my screaming, kicking, shaggy toddler into her car seat straps and left the house.
The ride to the doctor's office was uneventful. I only needed to pick up a new box of allergy shots, and I knew we would only be there a few minutes. I thought things would be fine. Boy was I WRONG!
Upon arrival, I attempted to put Baby Bee's sandals on her feet. As soon as I got one on she would take the other one off. Finally, the shoes stayed on and I got her out of the car. She melted into a puddle in the parking lot and refused to get up.
Around this time, Little Man tattled on his big sister. Apparently, Tater said that I was mean.
It took about 10 minutes for Baby Bee to finally decide that she didn't want to be left in the parking lot and to realize that she had to do the walking herself.
I left my older two kids in the foyer with crying Baby Bee and signed in with the nurse. Then I sent the older two into the waiting room while I held my still angry toddler.
Baby Bee finally quietened enough for me to take her into the office. She wasn't happy, quiet, or still, but it was a little better.
When I walked into the waiting room, Tater and Little Man were fighting about a lost paper clip. Ugh!
The nurse kindly laughed and we joked about taking Valium and giving some Haldol to Baby Bee. She game me my new box of shots and we were on our way.
Once again, Baby Bee's meltdown heated up in the foyer. She refused to walk, so I walked out of the building without her. Of course, she ran after me, and I turned back to get her.
Just as I was walking back into the building I heard a woman yelling from the second story balcony of the foyer, "Who's child is this?!"
Some maintenance men (who had see everything) calmly explained to the woman that I was trying to teach my child.
As I picked up Baby Bee, the lady yelled at me, "This is a place of business...Take her out of here." Obviously, her business was very important to her.
I looked up at the obese, middle-aged, overly made-up woman and yelled back, "Get real. This is a pediatrician's office!"
I was almost in tears, but managed not cry as I headed to the car.
Baby Bee screamed as I put her in the car seat, complained that her straps were too tight, and kicked her shoes off again.
As we were leaving the parking lot, Baby Bee calmed down and asked if we could go out for ice cream.
I responded, "NO WAY!" and Baby Bee wailed again.
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