Posted on | October 11, 2012 | 11 Comments
You know that sound that Jim Carrey makes in Dumb and Dumber? The one that’s called the most annoying sound in the world?
THAT is what my child sounds like these days. Almost constantly.
Every “word” out of his mouth is drawn out into a four syllabled whine that starts in the lower octaves, races up to the highest range that a human can process without shattering an eardrum, and then sinks back down to a reasonable level. To call this simply “whining” would be like calling a marathon simply a jog. This? this is an art form in the same way that really crappy mind numbing contemporary art where a toilet is on display with shit in it is an art form. And the worst part is that it’s causing me to seriously dislike my child.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the hell out of him. But these days I just don’t LIKE him all that much when he’s awake. When he’s not whining, he’s playing his favorite game of “I’m not going to tell you what I want you to do, I just want you to do it.” And it applies to everything. He’ll ask to watch a TV show and I’ll say “which one?” and it’s like his head explodes with choices so he just lies down on the sofa and cries “I’m not gonna tell you which one, I just want you to turn one on!” When I turn on a show, it’s never the right one. Just like it’s never the right piece of cheese, never the right dinner, never the right shirt, and never the right pair of pants.
I’m clearly getting everything wrong. I am clearly making everything more dramatic in his world. Every little thing is now the absolute be all end all of, well, everything. I am constantly on edge. I feel like I’m living in the straw house with my toddler outside huffing and puffing and any minute the house is going to just all blow down.
Parenting a toddler is so exhausting.
But just when I think I can’t possibly take any more, I woke up in this morning to little arms draped around your neck and a little voice whispering in your ear “The sun is up, Mommy, and I love you soooooo much.”
And suddenly I’m reminded that, yeah, I can make it through this. Because it probably is pretty freaking hard being three. (Though still not as hard as PARENTING three…)