Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Oh the drama

You are probably wondering to yourself "why on Earth is Katie posting a picture of this walkway?" Well folks, I am posting it to give you an idea of how much of a drama queen Peyton can be nowadays. It now takes us a good five minutes to go down this exceedingly plain walkway to the car. Five minutes to take twenty three steps (yes, I counted them). There are no pretty flowers, no bright colors jumping out to grab your attention, no toys laying around. Nothing but cement and grass. And leaves. And bugs. Peyton has developed a huge fear of leaves, bugs, dirt, basically any speck of something on the ground. Don't get me started on feathers. Look up "screams like a girl" in the dictionary and there you will find a picture with an audio clip of Peyton screaming after she sees a feather.

This morning we were running a few minutes late for her school, and I was trying to rush her down this walkway so we could get in the car and go. She had to dodge every tiny drop of dirt, every leaf, every dead bug, every stick, every thing. She wines and whimpers and points out each tiny thing and panics if it is bigger than a quarter. My tough, tomboy of a girl has turned into the biggest whimp ever. Lord have mercy if I try to pick her up and carry her because that is just the biggest sin according to Peyton. So this morning I spent five minutes resisting the urge to pick Peyton up and carry her to the car and instead reassured her with every step she took that the world was not going to end because there is a dead leaf in her path. Could she be more dramatic?? Sadly, I know the answer to this question is "yes" and will soon learn how dramatic an almost-two-year old can be. For now, she has shown me enough drama to get by the next few years. At least it is entertaining (for the most part).

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

What a tease

I have mentioned in previous posts that Peyton knows how to throw a tantrum. I've thought for awhile that she entered the terrible twos phase at 18 months since her tantrums are increasingly dramatic (like Oscar worthy dramatic), and actually at one point told myself that it just couldn't get worse. What a naive new mother I was thinking such a foolish thing. I practically asked for it.

Well, the terrible twos are officially here and it looks like it going to be one heck of a year (praying it only lasts a year...). Those tantrums she threw 6 months ago were just tiny little hints of what was to come. She was just teasing me and testing me. Unfortunately the fact that baby number two is due in a few weeks only adds to the burden of having such a feisty toddler. Nowdays even deciding what outfit she is going to wear for the day brings on a huge fight. I've never understood how kids so young could care so much about what they do and don't wear. I still to this day do not understand, but I have since learned that I must respect Peyton's wishes or all hell breaks loose. I am probably not doing the right thing by offering her options after options on what she can wear, but if it's all I can do to avoid her screaming bloody murder and throwing herself down on the floor, then that's what I am going to do. Sometimes I am truly thankful that I can turn my hearings aids off because the kid can scream.

Another obstacle we are encountering is the whole drop-off process at Mother's Morning Out. Peyton does fabulous in the morning when she first wakes up and in the car ride over to school, but as soon as it's time for her walk into the classroom and for me to say bye for a few hours, she changes into a monster and launches into a full blown tantrum. I know preschool teachers are accustomed to all types of breakdowns, but I seriously think my daughter's trantrums make them rethink their career choices. Peyton screams so loud that I can hear her in the parking lot. Um, this is not a good thing considering I am hearing impaired. She is so loud I swear I can feel the building shake. Her teachers always tell me that she calms down about 5 minutes after I leave and acts as if all is well with the world. I sometimes wonder if they sedate her after I leave. I'm kidding. Kinda.

At this age, kids are really into showing their independence and want to do everything by themselves. Every. Thing. Leaving the house is just ridiculous nowadays since she wants to climb into the car by herself (maybe I should have kept my sedan instead of getting a SUV that is way high off the ground), climb into the seat by herself, and buckle the seatbelts by herself. What used to be a 1-minute process is now a 15-minute torture session that leaves me in a coat of sweat and head full of curse words. Really Peyton? Do we have to do this when it is 97 degrees outside and the car is boiling hot? I think she is paying me back for the impending arrival of her little sister. She is definitely too smart for her age.

One last thing. Peyton L-O-V-E-S the word "no." She has been fond of this word in the past, but now it is her BFF. Every question I ask, she responds with a "no" even if she really means yes. At night, I will ask her if she is ready for a bath. She promptly responds with a "no." Then I tell her, yes it is time for a bath and she responds with a dramatic "noo, whyyy?" like I am asking her to do the most ridiculous thing ever. And during those rare moments when I remember to not ask her a question in a yes-or-no form, she is still able to get a 'no' in somehow. She wins no matter what I do or how I do it.

Yes, the terrible twos are here and I am ready to go on a year-long vacation.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

She did what?

Peyton has always been a busy bee, even in her sleep. It is utterly exhausting just watching her play. A few days ago, I had arranged for our babysitter to come watch Peyton for a few hours while I ran errands to get the house ready for baby number 2. I felt guilty leaving her behind because I had barely seen her the past few days due to work, drs appts, etc. But then I thought about our previous shopping expeditions and immediately the guilt was gone.

I was so excited to see Peyton after finishing all my errands and got busy playing with her. I guess she decided it was payback time for being gone so long, and she went on a rampage to see how much she could do in the least amount of time. She woke up from her nap (she was initially asleep when I first got home), and decided to decorate her crib with poop. I said to myself "no worries, I will clean it up and get over it." After wiping down the crib and changing the sheets, I threw Peyton into the tub to clean her off. Then she pooped in the tub. I let out a few screams, but again said to myself "no worries." After wiping all the toys and tubs with clorox (not an easy feat to do with a massive belly), I took Peyton to her room to get her dressed. I put her on the changing table, turned around to grab her diaper and outfit, and by the time I turned back, she had pooped on the table. I did say a few words to Peyton about pooping everywhere but in her diaper, but still I told myself "no worries, at least it isn't diarrhea." She looked at my with innocent eyes and told me it was time to get dressed.


After cleaning up the THIRD poop incident, we went to my bedroom and settled down to watch a movie. She had a sippy cup full of milk and decided that she no longer needed a top on the cup. Well, that last about 1/10th of a second. A few unmentionable words later, I was now adding my comforter to the growing pile of laundry. While getting that cleaned up, Peyton ran off to the playroom and I thought nothing of the silence that ensued. Five minutes later, I checked on Peyton and what was she doing? Drawing on the walls with crayons. After a few minutes of silently staring at Peyton's artwork, I recollected myself, grabbed those spiffy Mr. Clean scrub brushes and began the cleaning process. While doing that, Peyton decided her artwork was just too good to not decorate her face as well. So she grabbed the yellow marker and began the decorate her lips, cheeks, nose, forehead, chin, ears, arms, and hands. And did all of this in a matter of seconds while I had my back turned to her as I cleaned the wall. The kid is good. Imagine my horror as I turned around and saw my beautiful child covered in yellow marker. By this time, I had no energy to even yell. I sighed, and began yet another cleaning process.

It was during these few minutes that I experienced a brief moment of peace because I had Peyton in my hands thus making her incapable of destroying anything else. Sure that she couldn't do anymore damage, I set her free and started the second load of laundry. As I closed the washing machine, I heard the awful words, "uh ooohhh." Frantic, I ran into my bedroom and there stood Peyton with my beloved Kindle in her hands. She had managed to crack the side of it and knew she was in serious trouble. Of course, she did her puppy eyes and I could only manage a squeak of horror instead of a furious rant. She quickly ran out of the room while I cuddled my Kindle, silently begging for it to work just a little bit longer. Again, I hear the dreaded words, "uh ooohhh." I looked up to the ceiling and said "are you kidding me?" I walked out of the bedroom, and there was Peyton in the kitchen, covered in juice. Again she had decided she was a big girl and didn't need a top on her sippy cup. She managed to spill gallons (yes, I am being dramatic) of V8 Fusion juice all over herself and the floor. I could only look at her, and she knew just by that look that it was time for her to run out of the room. Back to my bedroom she went and a few seconds later I hear a crash. My shoulders dropped and my heart sank. I walked back to my bedroom and there was Peyton, standing on TOP of my nightstand with a lamp laying on the floor. Apparently, it was her turn to be on top of the nightstand and the lamp had no other choice but be thrown to the floor.

I. LOST. IT. To put it nicely. Thankfully Peyton decided that I had enough of this payback, and quietly sat on my bed and asked for a movie. I turned on the movie, told her not to move an inch or else, and walked back to the kitchen to clean the juice. Amazingly she didn't move an inch until her daddy came home thirty minutes later. Of course she was just an ANGEL for him. What a daddy's girl.

She managed to do all of this within 4.5 hours. I could feel the gray hairs growing on my head afterwards.