Oh shit … Minnow is two

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Minnow is two. He turned two almost a month ago. The first couple of days weren’t so bad. He was still the same pleasant little boy that he’d been for … well, two years. And then something snapped. Now I’m in hell.

Let’s start with the basics. EVERYTHING is his. Even if it wasn’t his, it is now. And if we have it, he wants it. “GIVE IT BACK!” has become a common refrain in the house. We are also forbidden from even looking at the bananas in his presence now – he won’t eat them, but no one else is allowed to either. On the topic of bananas, he will only consider eating them (not guaranteeing that he will eat one, but he’ll think about it) if it remains whole. Otherwise, he declares it “broken” and, as we all know, broken bananas taste completely different.

Saying no does not get good results anymore. A lot of the time, he’ll explain, calmly and rationally, why he disagrees with your opinion. I kid – he screams “no like it” and then cries. Calm and rational have left the building. Fled is probably the more accurate term.

Dinners out are also not really an option anymore. It can work sometimes – he and I went to the Indian buffet the other day and except for his insistence on only eating certain parts of the bread on the table, he did pretty well. Restaurants where you have to wait for food in any capacity are probably out for the foreseeable future, though. We’ve tried it a couple of times and it doesn’t work. Lesson learned: Fast food for the foreseeable future (alliteration unintentional, but I like it).

At the same time, there’s a lot of new fun stuff that he’s starting to do: he’s developing interests (Pokemon is his favorite thing in the world), and he is doing things now that he couldn’t do before – like play with duplo blocks. So having a 2 year old isn’t ALL bad. It’s just a lot of adjustment – and it has to happen quickly. What he wants seems to change a lot now, and his mood swings like a teenager’s.

But I’ll survive it, just like I did with Guppy. It helps to remember that after he goes to bed at 8pm (on the dot, now), I have at least 2 hours of peace and quiet. And, I can play with his pokeball without him knowing about it.

It’s my pokeball, now.

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