The little man turns 23 months old tomorrow. In the past I've coo-ed and laughed at how he was hitting those "terrible twos" a wee bit early. Well I confess. I mis-judged things. I mis-calculated just a bit. I was flat out wrong. Previous "outbursts", "defiance" and "tantrums" were not the real thing.
While "no" remains a common refrain, it's now being complemented, augmented and supplemented. Among this morning's choice phrases were:
- "no liking it"
- "not that way"
- "not that one"
- and a devilish cackle that your senses are better off not experiencing.
This morning's play: as I scoop him up to head downstairs his fist starts thumping repeatedly against my face. My glasses hit the floor as he gleefully chirps "No hitting! No hitting!". So much for explaining the transgression. We move to Phase Two as I deliver my warning outlining the consequences of continuing the behaviour, which is met by the second fist springing to action. Phase 3 follows quickly as I follow-through on said consequences, only he's beaten me to it. As I lower him to the floor he lurches for the corner laughing hysterically while quipping "timeout! timeout! Corner, corner, corner!". As I approach and drop to his level, keeping my voice low and in control to explain (Phase Four), he fires off "sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry" turns on his heel and sprints down the hall. I would relate what happened next, but by this point I was more of a puddle on the floor than a parent.
Score: WeeMan 4 - Dada 0.
I know he's learning from my mistakes, but am I? Although the past four days have been something alright, with the above just the annecdotal evidence of a growing trend, I'm not willing to venture that we've hit the real thing yet. All I can do is pick myself up and dust myself off.
There is more coming.