Monday, April 14, 2008


Today, April 14, my son is two. Not in any official capacity, mind you. His actual birthday is in July. But this day will live in infamy as the day that Garrett woke up and announced proudly that he intended to enter his terrible twos three months early. He's toyed with being terribly two several dozen times before and we've shrugged it off as the product of strong-willed parents. But this morning there were many tears and several spankings before the clock struck nine. (Yes we use corporal punishment to redirect our child's behavior. It comes in the form of a tap on the diapered hiney that, if not accompanied with our irritated faces, wouldn't even make that boy flinch.) We informed him that his continued behavior would earn him a spanking. Continue. Spanking. Remove him from the situation. He returned to the situation. Continue. Spanking. Rinse. Lather. Repeat. It finally ended in the culmination of my son throwing himself on the floor and pitching a monstrous fit while I buried my head in my husband's shoulder and said, "Oh my gosh! A year and three months of this?" To which Troy informed me that he wouldn't necessarily snap out of it on his third birthday. So we could have well over fifteen months of this strong-willed terror. I considered putting him back. But. Um. Ouch. And no thank you.

Luckily his attitude improved. We are having our first day of what I would refer to as warm weather. It's over 70 and Garrett and I spent the morning in the backyard swinging, playing with his wagon and picking flowers (weeds that he brought to me with the biggest look of accomplishment on his face. It was almost as adorable as this). As Garrett ran around in shorts and a t-shirt getting dirt on his hands and pebbles in his toes, I remembered why I love being a boy mommy. The lense didn't capture the smells of spring or the wind that God must have sent simply because it feels almost exactly like a soft sea breeze or the sweet sweet look on that terrible two year old's face when he handed me what he knew to be the best rock in the whole entire world, but it did capture the chubby cheeks of a little boy who is growing up way too fast.
Happy happy happy Spring!


  1. Such a cute kid! You know, terrible two's can last about 6-months, then you should get about a 6 month break, and then on to the troublesome three's! Then they turn 18 and move out. :( Well, okay, there are a few years in between.

  2. The weather was so awesome today, huh? I've found that three's are worse than two's, but I won't really tell you that, cause I don't want to scare you.

  3. I thought you'd be proud to know that I share your blog with my husband often. He enjoyed the red thingy posts, although thouroughly confused by the motivation for such a venture... and now refers to you as "Burka Mom" when referencing who I am taking about and or reading an excerpt from. :)