· The little buggers are possessive. They think everything belongs to them, from blenders to piles of dog poop to the secret stash of Oreos hidden in the back of the pantry for Mommy to have after bedtime. Everything. And if they cannot lay claim to what they believe is rightfully theirs, BEHOLD, THE END OF DAYS, my friends.
· Their emotions are all over the place—happy one minute, pissed off the next (kind of like Mommy if her happy meds were to run out).
· They are particular about food, often demanding buttloads of cheese dumped over noodles, peanut butter, or cereal. That’s it. If it’s green, remotely healthy, or not a big pile of mush, they refuse to eat it.
· They often insist on doing things themselves, without help. Ever. No help required. “No thank you, Mommy, your assistance is no longer required. I don’t care if it takes 2 hours to put on my shoes. I WANT TO DO IT MYSELF.”
· They are tantrum-throwing geniuses, most likely going into full-on fit mode while you are in the most public place possible (making it unadvisable to beat them).
· They demand your attention at all times, day or night. You are at their beck and call. And when they call, you had better damn well shake a tail feather and get your patootie moving in their general direction immediately, or else…well, see the one about tantrums.
- Sometime in the recent past, Jadon has been kidnapped by aliens, who then proceeded to replace him with a body double which is actually a 2-year-old in disguise.
- Jadon possibly has some rare illness, causing him to reverse in age gradually, whereby by the time he reaches 5 years of age, he will actually be pooping in his pants again.
- Holy sheep-shit, Batman! I totally lost count of the number of kids in our house, and someone snuck in a stray 2-year-old to torture us and keep us up all night long.
- And, I’m pretty sure it’s not this, but I have to put it in just in case. There is a remote possibility that throughout the night, Jadon actually DOES deal with approximately 3 ‘too itchy’ shirts, 1 loose Band-Aid, 2 wrinkled blankets, a hurt arm, a lost pillow, hot pajamas, and the excessive need to urinate. At least that’s his story, and he’s sticking to it.
We have reverted back to toddlerhood. Someone please medicate me.