I'm bagged

Bagged.

How is it that two little people can wear me out this much?

Gone is my Zen Baby. With his birthday only a month and a half away, The Dude has decided to embrace the terrible twos with gusto. Everything is No! Food is dashed to the floor. Naps are no longer cheerfully embraced.

I'm stunned.

Duckie was challenging right out of the starting gate. And so it was no surprise when she went through these stages. But the boy? I naively just assumed that he would grow up mellow. That from his birth until my demise, he'd be there, all Big Lebowski cuddly with a ready smile and a hug for his mum. He is still the sweetest little flirt in town with strangers. Whether it's dancing for the people at Home Depot or charming the vendors at Farmer's Market into stuffing his hands and pockets full of strawberries, he is full on adorable. He has learned from his sister that mom is chopped liver. I swear that whenever I ask him to do (or to stop doing) something, he gives Duckie this look as if to say, "What in god's name is that woman going on about now?" There are moments in each day when the two of them have me whipped and I look at him with a hurt expression: "Et tu, Brute?"

Don't get me wrong. I love that he is independant and mobile and embracing this whole free will thing with verve. But it's exhausting.  Totally exhausting.  Things that used to be simple with one getting-ever-more-sensible-by-the-day preschooler and an infant are now next to impossible. Yesterday, I made the grave mistake of attempting to do one errand at the Manulife Centre and another couple of errands at Hazelton Lanes - the equivalent of about one and a half city blocks. Really, how difficult could it be to pick up a pair of pants from the tailor, go to the post office and buy some 2% milk?

Well, let's just say it's not every day that you have to physically wrestle with one child in front of Prada while another one attempts to hurl himself out of the stroller into traffic. Not even the site of the new mega Sephora opening in the fall could lift my spirits.

Today, I more sensibly went back to our previously scheduled summer programming of one short errand and then outdoor play. And so we hit Dufferin Grove Park (at long last). But again, I was tired and grumpy (when I am like this even highly gentrified areas strike me as being filled with peril --  mind you, given that I hang out a lot in Rosedale where they call the cops on you if you are not dressed finely enough when you are out with your kids, perhaps I come by it honestly). And so what I'm sure was a lovely park (heaven knows it was busy enough) and a fantastic farmer's market (my mood is rarely foul enough that I can't detect good strawberries or good bread) was rather lost on me. My kids had a blast, however.

I am at that stage where I find myself wishing away the time instead of just going with the flow. I'm also feeling panicky that although Duckie will be in camp for much of July, The Dude is no longer content to sit there playing with his trains while I read a magazine. I can't even begin to face August when no camps have been booked and my vague plan is "a month at the lake" -- something I imagine is a lot more pleasant in theory than in practice.

For me, it's all a sign that I need to take a breather. Perhaps this is not the right time to launch my Next Big Idea. After all, they'll only be little once. The will not always want me to be this hybrid of Mary Poppins and the energizer bunny. In a few years, they'll be shutting me out; I'll have plenty of time to write with them stewing away in their poster-covered rooms, contemplating mean things to say about me on Facebook.

So this summer, I'm going to try to just go with it. To shelve my plans. To put everything on the back burner. That way any work I do get done will be a bonus. And I won't be checking my watch, willing the kids to sleep, or using the tv to the point where the AAP considers a personal intervention.

Or perhaps I'll spend a lot of time searching for dodgy boarding schools and sleepaway camps that will accept children younger than 6.

Comments

[Patience]

I have heard that at this stage; the years are short but the days are long. My first two were 29 months apart.
It's ok to wish that time would go by faster and that they would grow up a little quicker. I think it's normal. I'm the weird one with a four year old hanging on to every second.(and she's pretty challenging) But then my older three are 12,18 and 21.
Hope the rest of your summer is a little calmer.

[Haley-O]

I totally hear you!!! My little monkey's in exactly the same stage as your little dude. Gone are the days where you can do your own thing while they do theirs. The park has been working well for us. At least it did today.... And, I know I'm in for it with TWO little monkeys! :) Good luck trying to go with the flow (another thing that, from my experience, is "better in theory than in practice"!!! ;))

[Sharon]

And you still have the faint glimmer of a vacation in Chicago with your BFF. Keep that in the back of your mind. It's getting me through a lot of "I HATE YOUs" from my little booger!