Here is a new feature I’m going to attempt to keep up with on the blog. This year, in one month and one day to be exact, my middle baby (Erik) will be turning 2. And he’s entered the horrific era of the terrible twos. Actually he entered the phase a few months ago, but my husband decided to give me the brilliant idea of making it a feature on the blog.
So, on Tuesday I will be posting something relating to parenting or my kids or something to that effect (hence the name Terrible Twos-days). This is one of the few things I can’t really write in advance so I can’t really be sure of the content.
Today I will be addressing the issue of squealing. Seriously, my boys could rival a stuck pig with the pitch and duration of their squealing. It can’t even be called screaming. Screaming implies a certain quality…an unidentifiable quality, but a “screaming” quality.
It seems as if every single tiny little grievance is cause for squealing. If Erik touches Ryan, both of them start squealing. Do I know why? No….all I know is that by the end of the day when Mike gets home, I have a headache so bad that I’m positive driving an ice pick through my eye would be much more bearable. And Mike wonders why I feel the need to escape into a nice steaming hot bath. Honestly, he is always appalled when I come out and my skin is on the verge of blistering. (I like HOT baths!)
So, I have no idea how to remedy this issue except to give them time. So, in the meantime, I’ll be popping Tylenol and drinking some wine. A least that makes it a tiny bit funny. :o)