The Terrible Horrendous Twos (and I ain’t talking shit)
So for all you lovely Mums out there, secretly binge drinking on white wine in the afternoon (or Vodka which doesn’t smell), how many of you are experiencing the crazy, horrific “terrible twos”? No, I don’t mean after a night at the local curry house when you shit all day, I mean ….. your kids.
* Photo above are essentials needed for a “stay-at-home-Mum”. The horrid coloured diaper is an “organic non-chemical” nappy but it looks very weird and a little too brown for my liking (almost like an envelope or something you see in The Victoria & Albert Museum from the days of Henry 111V (the eight?!).
Back to the story… so… my twins are now in the middle of what seems like a constant joke, at my expense. They now tell me “NO!!!” (WTF?!) when they don’t want something, they try to dress themselves (this has included some HIDEOUS outfits that I can’t prise off them), turning their cups of water upside down just to see the mess it makes, and generally not listening to one fucking word we say. And smirking in my face too.
It takes A LOT of strength not to lose it with them, especially when we’re out in public and they know you’re more vulnerable and unlikely to scream your head off (or so they thought). My Son (Satan) recently decided he didn’t want to go down to our Clubhouse playroom (yes dahlings, we have a “Clubhouse” in our apartment block). So when he arrived downstairs in the lobby area with our sweet Helper and twin sister, he lay down on the floor, took his shoes off and wouldn’t move. Our Nanny (the ones who’s good with kids but almost burnt our house down) has NO ability to tell my kids off. None. They don’t listen to a word she says. So my son knows that the minute he leaves the house without me, he’s freeeee!
Well, I got my arse into the lift after our nanny called me from the lobby and while his twin sister (the angel) looked on, I walked out of the lift (still in slippers and probably holding a rolling-pin for effect) and holler, just like my Mum would have done to me “GET UP NOW!!!!!” I think they may have heard me shouting a few roads away. The Chinese, I’ve noted, don’t do this. Therefore my reaction in front of a group of Mums was probably “shocking”. Give a shit? Nope. My son jumped to his feet in a split second and got his arse into the lift. I didn’t utter a word to him but marched him back to our apartment and gave him “time-out” for 5 minutes (2 minutes on my Son just isn’t enough but in their world, it may as well be hours). He has never done that again. Tiger Mum? Nope. Angry, show-some friggin respect Mum…thats me!
My Daughter recently took all her clothes off during her lunch time nap, and on discovering a full nappy (with sticky poo), decided it was better to throw it all out of her cot. On walking into her room, all you could see was my naked 2-year-old saying “Oh my Goodness” as I looked at the shit, EVERYWHERE. Her brother did this to me a year ago and that resulted in me celotaping his nappy on. Well, that’s exactly what I did to my daughter. What happened the following morning? She had managed to get her taped nappy off and did a MASSIVE shit in her cot, smearing any remnants onto the walls, her favourite Cuskie and in her hair. I of course, was flabbergasted and called our nanny right away to clear the shit up (hey, I’d puke with all that crap). She’s got balls though as she’s not scared of anyone.
Is it any wonder us Mums need to drink?! Our husbands just don’t get it…..although on our recent short break, without help may I add, it was The Captain who swiftly ordered a large glass of wine before midday “to take the edge off”. Of course the minute he ordered a glass, I decided, “hey, why not just order a bottle and leave the kids for a few more hours?!” He frowns on that sort of behaviour though and made me feel like a guilty alcoholic (is there any other type?)….which I’m not, unless it’s the weekend, or 6pm “Mums O’Clock” ie. wine, unless I’ve had a particularly bad day, in which case, drinking may start a little earlier …. not breakfast though, unless it’s a Bloody Mary… which doesn’t really count.
Anyhow, the kids are playing up, therefore I’m feeling angry all the time. And, when I see a couple without kids who are all smiles and lovey dovey (they haven’t got a fucking clue)…. I feel the urge to punch them in the face. They have no idea. I was like that until the kids destroyed my body, taught me unconditional love (yeh, yeh ok) and now, I’m too tired to even stay up past midnight when I hit the town. I just hope they go to University, put me in a decent old people’s home (if the Captain can join me, that would be great), and just show some fucking respect. I have zilch tolerance…and when its other people kid’s…. fuck you don’t wanna be around me then. I don’t like other people kids. Yep, I said it. I’m not going to pretend. I don’t like other peoples kids (I can barely tolerate my own when they misbehave) so WHY oh WHY would I gush over yours?!!! If I didn’t have kids, you wouldn’t expect me to adore yours, so why, now I have children, am I expected to like your kids. I don’t.
They annoy me. YES…. I said it.