Living with a "Terrible Two-Year-Old"

Cal is really trying my patience lately. I think everyone gets so used to throwing around the words "terrible twos", that we forget how real it is! Or I guess, in my case, I forget how consistently the terrible twos manifest themselves in the minutia of my day. Everything is a battle right now. Not because Cal is a bad kid--it's just because that is what he is programmed to do right now: fight for what he wants.

Exhibit A.

Cal got ahold of a ricola throat lozenge who-knows-when, and turns out, he loves them. Every time he sees one--whether it's in my purse or on the counter--he loses interest in anything else. During the most recent episode, I gave him a firm "No," and then put the lozenges on the counter, out of his reach.

Or so I thought...

Cal: 1

Mommy: 0

Exhibit B.

Cal also loves coloring. I hide our writing

utensils as best I can, because he will color on anything--the wall, the cupboards, the fridge, throw pillows, sheets, the floor...

A few weeks ago, I was lying on the floor where Cal and I had been playing with trains, when Cal climbed on my back and started tickling me with his little finger. Except that, after a few seconds, I realized it wasn't his finger.

My back: Cal's first body art

Worse? I was his second project of the moment:

Cal: 2

Mommy: 0

Exhibit C. (*Note: this is definitely my own fault)

I had (note the past tense) two huge frames displaying photographs I took a few years ago. I had yet to hang them, and had discouraged Cal's interest in them by consistently removing him from the area where I had them resting. One day, I heard a HUGE crash, and came in to find him standing rather unapologetically next to this:

He'd just tipped them over for no reason! I naturally freaked out and snatched him up before he could cut himself. But then, to add insult to injury, as I'm sweeping up the extensive amount of glass, Cal walks into the room covered head-to-toe in his toddler toothpaste. It took me the better part of an hour to finish cleaning up both messes.

Cal: 4 (I'm giving that last one two points)

Mommy: still 0

To finish, here is a picture of Cal's naughty smile. It's the smile he does when he knows he's being naughty:

Oh Cal, what am I going to do with you? And will I survive these truly terrible twos?