Monday, February 19, 2007

Melting Cheese

Terrible Twos. I hate that expression. I LOVE two!! It just might be my favorite age.

But today...ah, today has tested my position on two.

It began this morning, and I don't even remember how. Baby began crying uncontrollably about something that disrupted the universe that IS her. She could not be distracted. She could not be consoled. So I put her on the bed, alone, to try and work it out for herself. Brother finds this to be cruel and unusual and begs me to get her. I try to explain to him that she is getting a time out, just like he and Sister would get if they were throwing this sort of tantrum. Soon, Baby calms down and comes to me, eyes puffy, nose running and arms open wide, ready to make up. I'm feeling pretty satisfied and confident that I AM Supermom, able to tame tantrums in a single bound.

Later, as I am preparing lunch, Baby comes to me, whining. I have four slices of bread to make two grilled cheese sandwiches. Three kids + two sandwiches = disaster. However, Baby has already been snacking on carrots and hummus, so I figure I can offer her a slice of cheese and a couple of Dora cookies and she will be happy. She takes the cheese and immediately becomes distressed. "Ow!" she says, turning on the waterworks for the second time in two hours.

I sit beside her, trying to decipher her cryptic message of despair. "Out?" I say. "Down? Do you want down from your chair?"

"NO-AH!" this is the way she says "no"...adamantly.

"What's wrong?"

"OW!" she wails, becoming more despondent. "OOOOWWWWWWW!!!!"

I search her for boo-boos, but find nothing. She just keeps looking at her cheese slice, crying. I finally deduct that her cheese slice has a tiny little tear in it, and this has cut her to the quick...shaken her to the very core of her being. The cheese, defiled and unclean, is mocking her, and she cannot therefore partake of such a vile and disgusting offering.

After our earlier outburst, I'm growing weary of the drama, and I state plainly, "Either eat the cheese or throw it away."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-AH!!!" More tears. More snot. More drama.

So, I simply try to remove the cheese for her and dispose of the threatening dairy product. But, alas, she has it firm within her grasp, and my reaching for it only serves to tear the slice completely in two.

Oh. My. Goodness.

If there is such a thing as a Drama Queen, I believe what ensued after that would qualify her as the Most High Supreme Goddess of Drama, able to call down the powers of darkness to reign unholy terror upon me, one of her lowly peon subjects.

I, again, try to remove the cheese, but she squeezes the cheese into her tight, little fists and runs, screaming and crying all the way. I go after her, only to find her seeking shelter in the arms of her sympathizer...Brother. By her behavior, Brother is sure I am killing her, slowly and painfully, and is ready to fight me tooth and nail to protect her, bless his little aiding and abetting heart.

After prying her away from him, I carry Baby, kicking and screaming (to put it lightly), to the kitchen to try and pry the smashed balls of cheese from her grasp. And she is less than cooperative. I literally have to force her fingers open while she is flailing about like a wounded bird...a very VOCAL wounded bird. I have never, NEVER witnessed anything like it, except maybe on SuperNanny.

And as if one fiasco isn't enough, Sister comes into the room (with her hands over her ears) and shouts above the pandemonium, "COME LOOK WHAT BROTHER DID TO YOUR ROOM!"

I know he is angry with me for torturing his baby sister with a piece of torn cheese, and I imagine he has gone to my room and ransacked it. I walk down the hall just in time to see him stomping from my room, throwing a dirty look my way. I walk in to find...nothing. Everything looks the same. Either my room is so messy I can't tell or he really didn't do anything. Brother, who cannot keep from 'fessing up, comes quickly back to my room and hands me three picture frames containing pictures of each of my angelic babes. He had stolen them from my room to get back at me for being so mean to Baby.

Guess they really showed me. Next time I'll think twice before giving torn cheese to my children.

13 comments:

Heth said...

This is my favorite part:
"I have never, NEVER witnessed anything like it, except maybe on SuperNanny."
Hahahahahaha! I'm so sorry to laugh at your expense. But oh how I feel your pain.

Mama of 2 said...

Something must be in the air since my own Girlie Girlie has been given to fits of temper tantrums today as well.
Nothing I do seems to help. I hope yours ends soon so I know mine will too. :o)

Sarah said...

Man. I can't believe you broke her cheese. That's awful.

Nicola said...

I feel for you. I've had days like that.
My husband had to saw a piece off of our rocking chair the other day to free our trapped 3-year old son.
Kids, eh!

Lura said...

I have soooo been there. Ugh! The whole "imperfect food thing" really gets to you sometimes! And I also have answered "Eat it or I'll just throw it away". Of course, I got the same response you did!

Andrea said...

I thought my son was the only one that freaked over less than perfect food. Who knew that it tastes different if it isn't in perfect form?

Kara said...

LOL! I'm sorry to laugh, but I can just imagine since I also have a 2yr old, and man they sure can throw huge fits over nothing huh?! That is sweet that Brother wants to protect Baby though :)

FARMERS WIFE said...

Oh. My.

That is truly the funniest thing I've read in a while. And it hits close to home...

How could we blog without these sweet children?? We'd have nothing to say...

yerdoingitwrong said...

That is hysterical! When you're reading it that is. I'm sure it was less than fun to live it!! Love how brother showed you. oh my goodness!!

Deena said...

Oh, the memories that brings back
**shudder** LOL!!

Rest assured, as the mom of three teenagers, the "perfect food" stage goes away...only to become "I can't BELIEVE you put my favorite jacket in with HIS clothes to wash...ewww!!"

Don't ever lose your sense of humor...some days, it's your only bright spot...

I want some cheese now.....

Anonymous said...

I think I have her twin.

(And what IS IT with two year olds and cheese? Mine can't eat it if it isn't perfectly square but thinks nothing of munching on it when it's been mashing and mangled in her hand for a half hour!)

Stay strong! We CAN make it, LOL!

tAnYeTTa said...

my son screams you broked-it, you broked-it and throws the sandwich to the floor. note to myself, never broked a sandwich ever again! *sigh* i'll have to blog about this one!

Finelly said...

Dude, step away from the cheese.