Like everything else in parenting, you think you know what’s coming with the terrible twos. But you don’t know.
it’s tough being little, learning what you can control and all that you can’t. It’s tough when your parents keep saying no for incomprehensible reasons. I empathize completely.
Which doesn’t help all that much when I’m walking down the street holding a writhing girl screaming “Stop, Daddy, Stop” in Swedish. It really doesn’t help that Swedes are not the most empathetic people in public, that most of them just stare and look disapproving.
We get in fights with Norah it seems like three or four times a day. when she has to get dressed or undressed. When she has to eat or shouldn’t eat. About being in her face or not being in her face.
And I think I get a different level because I was home all summer and don’t work 100%. I say that I get Mommy anger. I am involved in so many daily tasks; I say no as much as Iza. So I get more blowback, more than I ever would as a more traditional Dad.
Can’t I just walk in the door and have her run into my arms every night?
But I don’t want that, of course. Because then I wouldn’t get to run and play and lay on the couch and watch the odd Sesame Street video with Norah. And that’s worth all the fighting.