So I haven't blogged in awhile. A lot of things have been going on, I guess. Mostly Cutezilla and being exhausted. And that whole baby-weight thing that's getting more towards not being baby-weight anymore. So I've been working out, hanging with Cutezilla, and spending my evenings cozied up with the hubby while passed out in front of the tv.
Cutezilla has also been on a tear. Maybe it's the Terrible Two's. Maybe it's just her asserting herself. Who knows? But it's KILLING ME. Mostly she just argues with me over EVERYTHING. I mean, not just going places or getting in the car. I mean EVERYTHING. Even after she ASKS me for something, she'll immediately tell me she doesn't want it.
"I NEED MILK."
"NO, I DON'T MILK!!!!"
"I DON'T MILK!!!"
After the hubby left for a night (a single night, I might add), she gave me so much crap that I called my buddy and told him if he didn't take her, I was going to completely lose it. He picked her up, and I immediately drove to the library and checked out eight books on child management and discipline. The first librarian was amazing, because for the first time ever, I heard, "Oh yeah, I had one like that. I almost killed her." And it was the best thing EVER. You know why? Because I never hear that. I always hear what I need to be doing, what I'm doing wrong, or my personal favorite, the weird looks that say, "How can you say that about such a beautiful and sweet child! She's so wonderful and affectionate and amenable!"
Because of course, she's an absolute doll for other people. I mean, PERFECT. It makes me crazy. Of course those books say that this means that my child is comfortable in our relationship. They also say that her good behavior for other people is a sign of good parenting. Yay. Yippee. You know what would do her and me some good? A little good ol' fashioned FEAR. Once in awhile, it would be awesome if she thought, you know the crazy lady is close to the line today. Maybe I'll indulge her and eat a green bean. But yeah, not so much.
The second librarian (I talked to at least four that day), as I tried to find a few extra books, "Oh two is such a difficult age, because they just can't communicate."
I said, "Oh no. We don't have that problem. 'I DON'T NURSERY! I DON'T GYM! I DON'T SOCKS! I DON'T DRESS! I DON'T CAR!!! I DON'T [insert anything here, because it's a pretty good bet she "doesn't"]!!!" The lady's mouth dropped open, and she said something like "oh you poor thing", and pulled two more books off the shelf for me.
It's been better lately, though. Not that the books helped. The one book I specifically was looking for "Magic 1-2-3" is basically in-line with the Nanny 911 philosophy. The basics: Time-Outs with three prior warnings. Time-Out early, Time-Out often. Don't talk to the kid while you're doing it. Ask questions instead of lecturing "why it was wrong." Pretty simple, really. Except that we were already doing it. Yay. I just started cracking down on everything. We spent about two days straight doing nothing but Time Out. Over EVERY LITTLE THING. And then she got the idea I wasn't screwing around, I guess.
I've even been giving warnings over asking for the paci. Maybe that seems crazy, but she's making me nuts asking for it over and over again. "Paci? My paci now? Paci? My paci now?" Repeat for 18 hours until bedtime. Just like that with no break or pause. So yeah, I started giving her warnings and Time Outs over that too. I let her ask once, maybe twice, and then I ask "When do we get a paci?" She tells me "Naptime" or "Bedtime," and after that, it's the warnings and Time Outs. And she's severely cut back.
The downside: she now hates her high-chair. (Which is where she ends up when she's in Time-out, unless we're outside of the house.) But she doesn't eat, so it's not a huge loss. I usually just set a plate out on the ottoman or something for her to ignore, and she does just that, in fabulous style.
On a related note, I did also discover that Car Time-Outs are no longer going to work very well, since today I put her in Time Out in the car, and she climbed through the car into the driver's seat, opened the door and hopped out into the parking lot. I know, I know, buckle her in. Right. Do you know how much trouble that is? The hubby weighs another 50 pounds more than I do, and he has trouble getting her in when she fights, so when I tell you it's difficult, I'm not kidding or exaggerating. I've had other people help me hold her down while I got the buckle on her, and even with two people, it's still not easy.
The other thing that has happened lately is I got cleaners to come in and clean while I got to some of the other chores and tasks I've been putting off since before Christmas. Like putting up Christmas decorations that I didn't get around to putting up during Christmas. To be honest, last year sort of got cheated with the Christmas stuff. We went to Iowa for the last week of November obviously, then took a week to go to Florida and see "Mickey's House" as we now call Disney. Then we spent a week and a half at home, then flew back to Iowa for Christmas. Not to mention that we drove to Georgia to fly out of ATL, or that we came back to Greenville via Columbia to pick up the Miata after I blew the engine. So literally, no decorations. Just the [pre-lit] tree, with two ornaments (one from Disney, obviously and one from the company Christmas party) I don't think I even got a tree skirt on the tree. No Christmas cards either. And then we got back to a disaterous house, and Cutezilla hit a serious "search and destroy phase." Not that she was looking for anything in particular; she just wanted to look into everything and pull it apart. Down to the atoms, it seems like some days.
What all this means is that I've been drowning in my life, generally speaking. So for Cutezilla's Spring Break, I sent her to the beach with her Grammy, and hired cleaners and painters and tried to take back my house. I'm still slogging through, but it's somewhat better at least, and I'm still feeling motivated enough to keep going. For the moment.
So why the blog? The Hubby, the sweet incredible guy he is, picked up a new laptop for me at a company auction. So Cutezilla gets her tv, and I get a few extra minutes of internet/computer time per night! Hurrah for amazing Husbands!!! And here I am pounding away at my "new" tiny little keyboard! Cheers!
PS. I can't find spellcheck on the new laptop. You know, just FYI.