We've reached them.
And by that i mean how terribly hard it is having two children two years apart with the oldest one having only just turned two! ARGH!
I'm actually slightly hesitant to write this entry as i don't want to come across as ungrateful or a moaner but if nothing else i do want this blog to be a truthful account of life as it actually is and right now it is HARD!
Toby is going through a difficult phase. I use the word 'difficult' here in the sense of "tricky" rather than "obstinate". I don't think he's doing it on purpose and i'm sure it's hard for him too, he's growing and learning at an incredible rate and adjudsting to the new family dynamics, testing his boundaries, trying to learn how to control his own body and understand his own emotions. It's a lot to handle as a tiny person and i do try to remind myself that as often as i can.
Of course it can be pretty hard to keep that in mind when he has just hit the dog over the head with one of his toys/thrown something across the room for the 7th time that hour despite having been asked nicely and then specifically instructed NOT to do so.
Life at the minute feels like an epic battle taking place across a backdrop of our house/car/the supermarket and various other 'settings' across Manchester. Last week at playgroup, out of nowhere he quite calmly and deliberately threw a wooden toy brick in a younger toddlers face. That is a specific example of the kind of incomprehensible and totally outrageous behaviour that has me wondering where the hell we've gone wrong.
It would be hard to deal with even if that's all i did have to deal with, but of course it's not. Because we're blessed with two beautiful little gremlins...sorry...children, and Rudy also appears to be going through a difficult phase. If it were a BBC gameshow it would be called "Can't sleep won't sleep" but rather than being aired once in the morning it would be the only thing broadcast ALL BLOODY DAY!
He gets tired, he fights sleep, he gets very very tired and wants to sleep, he finds it difficult to drop off and as a consequence ends up extremely over tired. After a certain amount of time has passed and a certain quota of tears have been shed (his and mine) he eventually falls to sleep for say, ten to twenty minutes and then it's a case of rinse and repeat ad nauseum.
I don't remember going through anything similar with Toby but that could be due to the hormonal lobotomy you get after having a baby, the one that ensures you forget the horror and remember the squishy cuddles and gurgly smiles, the one that makes it likely that you will breed again and therefore ensures the continuation of the species.
So yes. Life is tricky right now. The majority of the day i am unable to hold any actual thoughts in my head due to the screaming/crying/wailing/shouting/shrieking but in the evening when things quieten down i like to spend my time feeling guilty/questioning myself/going over every single thing that happened during the day and worrying about my capabilites as a girlfriend, mother of two and human being in general. It's a fun way to spend what little free time i have and i would highly recommend it to anyone (what a shame i don't have a sarcastic looking emoticon to enter here)
It goes without saying of course that i love my boys. Even when they have me wanting to curl up in a ball on the living room rug waving a metaphorical white flag of surrender (it couldn't be an actual flag, as Toby would probably poke the dog in the eye with it) i still love them dearly and i'm sure in years to come i will remember these days with a fond smile and not shivers of terror, or indeed i may not remember them at all (see above re: mother nature and her cunning design!) In the meantime i am adopting a new mantra: "This too shall pass!" and crossing my fingers i make it through to the other side with at least part of my sanity intact.