So…where is that guy that coined the phrase “terrible two’s”  - seriously – he needs to spend a little time with my 3 year old.  And I know it’s a guy, too. No woman would limit the terribleness to one year of a child’s life.

Yes, I’m still cranky (and hot – it’s 100+ here today).  Yesterday was my birthday and overall it was great. My family treated me to dinner out and some lovely gifts – and of course their charming company, and lots of my friends called or emailed.  What more could a girl ask for? My only problem lately has been that my darling L.A. Toddler has a meltdown the second you start to mention ‘naptime’. I know, many kids give up their naps at this age – but mine is not ready (nor am I). Seriously, she just can’t make it through the evening if she’s not had a nap earlier in the day.

So both yesterday and today we eat our lunch, read a book – while she’s sitting in bed – and I leave the room to allow her to relax and fall asleep.  About 5 minutes later she peeks around the corner with a big grin on her face and announces that she’s not tired.

Today she didit and then noticed that I was eating a snack out of one of “her” bowls and she freaked out.  Totally ran at me, smacked me on the leg, got pissed because she was aiming for the bowl and swung again – this time hitting the bowl and sending blueberries flying.

So I did my best to be “calm mommy” and remind her that this behavior is not acceptable, she is not allowed to hit and now she needs to help clean up the blueberries (it’s not like my 8 month pregnant body can get on the floor to do it!)

So she answers me like any 3 year old would.  With a blood curdling, nails on the chalkboard screeching, highest pitched scream I have ever heard.  Her face turned reddish purple and the scream lasted a good 20 seconds. I just looked at her.  That pissed her off more so she followed up with two more similar screams and threw herself into a pillow to howl.  I let her howl for a couple of minutes sitting in relative silence, not touching her or even looking at her.  She looks up from the pillow and I begin to say “I see that you’re angry…”  and she belts out another of the blood curdling, chalkboard screeching, now ridiculous screams, hits me on the arm and throws herself back into the pillow.  Repeat two more times.

I am no longer calm mommy.  I am mommy-about-to-lose-her-shit. I pick her up over my shoulder (to keep her from kicking my stomach) and take her to her bed.  At this point that I remind myself that the only thing that “works” against this behavior is taking away toys or privileges that she can’t live without.  I spot her dearly beloved monkey stuffed animal (who’s thrown in a corner under a pile of toys) and I retrieve him and tell her that since she is screaming and hitting mommy, monkey will be taking a time-out and must sit on a shelf in her room.  More screams…this time adding “Daaaaaaddddeeeeeeeeeee” .  Ha!  Good luck sister, he’s out sailing the Pacific today.

So, realizing I’m a bit jealous that he’s out enjoying some R&R with adults, I decide to call a truce with L.A. brat Toddler and I tell her that I’m giving up.  I’m not fighting with her anymore. She needs to lie down in her bed and if she gets up again she’ll not be going to her friend’s birthday party tomorrow.  She screams and throws herself sobbing into her pillow. I leave the room.  I walk to the kitchen to pour myself an icy glass of water (‘cause L.A. Baby would come out damaged if I poured what I really wanted).

I walk back to the living room to find something to watch on the tube while I blog and realized that I don’t hear any sound coming from her room. I tiptoe down the hall and peek into her room.  She’s out like a light. Snoozing away, tears still wet on her cheeks. It’s all I can do not to wipe away the tears and lie down next to her for some cuddle-time.

But I don’t dare – I’m one my way to two hours of peace and quiet!