by Kylie Krackenbacken
I need to have a bit of a rant about the tiny humans. My 2.5 year old is mostly a total arsehat at the moment, interspersed with enough gloriously sweet moments to keep his spot in the house. You know, enough to keep him away from having to work the fryers at Maccas to pay his rent at some crappy flat he shares with the other 2 year old arsehats.
The tiny human is right into pushing boundaries and can have a throw down tantrum with the best of them. He prefers to do this in public when my hands are full, especially when I have a coffee in my hand and it’s a real challenge to decide if I pick up the kid or keep drinking the delicious coffee.
Last week at our local library’s story time he turned their equipment off at the wall and then pulled down his pants in a strange celebration ritual. ?
“He did WHAT?” via GIPHY
The other night my beloved partner went out for a well deserved dinner with some friends and my darling 2.5 year old chose that night to tell me for the first time that he doesn’t like me and then tried to claw my face off.
He then repeated it twice in case I missed it. I stopped him from scratching me and told him that this was unfortunate because I loved him very much and while he thought about that I put his pyjamas on and we moved on with our lives.
I shared this on social media with my friends as a ‘geez, thanks kid’ moment and a friend posted what I’m sure was a well meaning article about a technique to have meaningful, compassionate conversations with your children in order to be present and connect with them.
According to this well meaning advice, I should have been present and listened while the tiny human was trying to claw my face off in the attempt to have a meaningful conversation.
I think it would have gone roughly like this:
Jack, sweetheart, it looks like you’re trying to scratch mummy’s face off and tell me you hate me. You seem frustrated, can you tell me about it sweetheart?
Sorry, you’ll have to use your words sweetheart because you just scratched my eyes out and mummy can’t see you anymore because her eyeballs are hanging out and her eye sockets are bleeding.
You’re sad because you want the green plate? We don’t have a green plate sweetheart. We never had green plate.
There’s no FREAKING GREEN PLATE.
The thing is that I do have these conversations with him but when he’s physical, it is my responsibility to teach him that this behaviour is not OK. He will often reflect on his actions later and tell me what is nice and what is not nice, so something must be sinking in. The reality is though, sometimes trying to rationalise a situation with a 2.5 year old is an entirely ludicrous proposition.
Sometimes, when you have that bone crushing exhaustion, PMS, a messy house, no chocolate, the water is off, your kid just did their third crap for the day and is squealing at the top of his lungs at a pitch that could shatter safety glass while he holds a talking bird that repeats every freaking noise it hears, something has to give. Occasionally, this is my patience.
Not the bird! Anything but that! via GIPHY
Ok, don’t judge me, I explained that there was no chocolate, didn’t I?
The article made me feel a bit ranty because yet again, I have failed to be aspire to make every single backbreaking minute of parenting meaningful.
It annoyed me because I think that we are all trying to do the best that we can to be good parents, good partners, good friends, good bosses, good employees and gentle, patient people with the tiny arsehats but no one is perfect.
Most of us don’t have a village to help raise our children anymore. We’re lucky if we have some family to help out when the going gets tough.
I am trying to create my own village of fabulous, honest, strong friends and parents. It’s so incredibly reassuring to know that in their homes, their tiny humans are crazy arsehats too. To be able to openly and honestly share the joys, the trials and the tribulations of parenthood is a beautiful thing.
Is your toddler a crazy arsehat?