"Terrible twos" is the term that people throw around to describe the difficult behavior of two-year-old kids. As we neared that birthday with Simon, I though, "Not my kid, he's an angel."
About six weeks after his second birthday, I no longer feel that way.
Simon is in the classic push-pull mode, seeking independence by defying what we ask him to do, and then turning around and giving us hugs and kisses. If he doesn't get his way, whether it be out of frustration for something he can't figure out how to do, or by way of us telling him he can't do something, the tantrums come in epic proportions.
While it's mostly annoying for me, it's outright exhausting for Diana, since she spends most of her waking time with him. Now add a couple of nights this week where he wasn't feeling good, waking up hourly, and augment the exhaustion with sleep depravation.
The worst part of it is that I don't know how to manage any of it. The only way I know that it can get better is for Simon to grow out of it. This is where Diana's parenting skills also exceed mine, because she has pursued the county subsidized speech therapy, which will help get Simon to a place where he's effectively communicating with us. I think that will help a great deal, because right now, he can't always tell us what he wants. He certainly can't explain if his stomach hurts or he's experiencing muscle aches typical with growing up.
I don't want to paint a picture that it's all bad. This morning, Simon was being a pain in the ass and not coming downstairs so Diana could take him to a play date. I grabbed him off the stairs and physically brought him down. There was brief crying. When they finally got to the door to go, Simon waved to me, puckered up, and walked over to me to give me a kiss. Then he did it again. He has these moments where he can be such a sweet kid, but they're becoming more obscured by the tantrums.
I have to keep reminding myself that this is just what kids do, and before long, he'll be asking to borrow the car.