Terrible Two's

Erin has always been our "easy child". Such a label may be unfair to attach to her, but from the day we brought her home from the hospital, she happily merged into the family routine. She rarely cried, slept through the night after only a few weeks, and never seemed to mind being dragged to gymnastics, preschool and story-hours at the most inopportune times. She has grown into a remarkably agreeable toddler, easy to redirect and quite adaptable to all the chaos in her household. She hardly even seemed to care when her "baby" status was replaced by the arrival of a new brother.

But yesterday, the terrible two's reared their ugly head. In public. At the corner drugstore, to be exact.

Poor Erin's life has been in upheaval since she moved into Beth and Amy's room on Saturday. Prince Brian moved out of our room, and now has the only single room in the house, while the three girls are now sleeping together. For Beth and Amy, it has been one long-lasting slumber party, but little Erin has never had to share a room before. Her noisy roommates are waking her up an hour earlier than she would prefer, and the sleep deprivation is beginning to wear her down. Combine this with a nagging cold that she has been fighting for weeks, and we created the "perfect storm".

So yesterday, as I handed over my purchases to the cashier at the drugstore, Erin suddenly became frantic.

"My dolly's hat fell off! My dolly's hat fell off!", she screeched.

I calmly asked her to wait two minutes for my assistance, but this seemed to be the last straw for my toddler. I watched in shock as she threw herself to the ground and began screaming and kicking.

"No!! Now!! Now!!! She's head is cold. SHE'S HEAD IS COLD!!!", she yelled. (We are working on pronouns...)

Curious shoppers paused to watch the show, some with looks of horror (whether these looks were due to her behavior or her terrible grammar, I'm not quite sure). Meanwhile, I attempted to remain calm while finishing my transaction with the cashier. Erin refused to stand up to walk to the car, so I was forced to heave the writhing, kicking, screaming, thirty-pound toddler onto my hip. I then attempted to push Brian's stroller with my free hand, and herd Beth and Amy safely along, all the while trying to avoid being kicked by Erin's flailing limbs.

One kind, elderly woman stopped to yell over Erin's tantrum. "I had five children. I remember these days. You will get through this. Believe me. You will survive".

I thanked her, and continued my slow and noisy trek toward the car. After Erin was buckled into her seat (with much difficulty), her screams turned to slow slobs, and eventually even quieter hiccups.

I suppose Erin was long overdue for an emotional breakdown, although I would have much preferred it to happen in the privacy of our home. But, my mother always said that having children is very good for your humility.

She was right. Tonight, I feel quite humble. Very, very humble. Sleep well, baby Erin. Please...