Terrible Twos

A friend and I were discussing how we need to invent a Baby Cage for our overactive toddlers. She recently blogged about how her son nearly caught the house on fire while she was showering. My first thought was What's it like to shower whenever you want? All my showers are after 9:00 PM or when a responsible adult is available to watch over my baby monkey. These last couple weeks with Monkey Girl have been especially trying.

Since we started potty training, the bathroom doors have been left open. Previously, the bathrooms were off-limit places where my sweet daughter could totally reap havoc. She has been known to climb the drawer handles of the vanity and remove everything from the medicine cabinet. She has bathed in the toilet. She has used feminine products to leave a Hansel and Gretel-type trail through the house. Just a few days ago (please stop reading here if you're easily grossed out), I found her with the toilet plunger in her mouth! (I know!) Disgusted, I scooped her up and began washing her mouth out with soap. Her enthusiastic reply was, "Mmmmm!" (She won't eat food but enjoys the taste of soap. Hmmm...)

The next day, she decided to use a magic marker like lipstick. I really wish I had snapped a picture of her turquoise blue lips before angrily cleaning them off.

And yesterday, she decided that she forgot how to use the potty. At the end of the day I counted eight or nine pair of tiny, wet panties in the laundry.

So if anyone ever wondered why I'm anxious, stressed, half nuts, gray-haired, and spastic...the answer is one adorable, brown-eyed two-year old.

But there is usually a happy ending to these stories. While she was supposed to be in her bed napping, I kept hearing footsteps, singing, and playing coming from her room. I put her back in bed umpteen times. Finally, I was at my wit's end. I stomped up the stairs, fully intent on hollering at her and disciplining her. I swung open the door and looked at her, standing in the middle of an empty floor. "Where are all your toys?" I asked, remembering how the floor was covered with them the last time I was there. She pointed to her toy basket and replied, "Battet." She cleaned her own room! Without being told! Awww....what a sweet, wonderful, angel daughter I have! Now I have to take back all those other things I said about her!