Oscar is a few days away from turning 18 months, and I feel like whilst he is growing, he is slowly morphing into the worst type of child he can be. Is it a phase? I bloody hope so.
Now don’t get me wrong, he is amazing. He never fails to shock me with something new he can do, or new words he can say. He makes me laugh, he gives me sloppy kisses randomly, which are the best type, and he brings me lots of various objects he has found on the floor when I can’t be bothered to sweep up. Trust me, I appreciate it, I really do. Well, I prefer it to the alternative, as I had already got absolutely sick of fishing crumbs and fluff out of his mouth by the 9 month point.
Now, he has also got a pretty good understanding of yes and no. He knows what no means, which lately results in a tantrum. I don’t think I am a strict parent, but I have tried very hard not to fall down any parenting rabbit holes. I know if I start giving in at this point, I will be stuck giving him his own way until he is 30. I don’t want him to scream and think that I will just suddenly change my mind.
So, of course, because of this, he has developed a scream. A deafening one. One that shatters your ear drums and pierces your brain and slowly makes you want to stab yourself in the eye with a small, plastic, PAW patrol fork.
Public screaming is the worst.
You can feel yourself at breaking point, just about to burst, and you can see everyone is willing you to tell them to shut the hell up, but you know if you do, those exact people will tut and mutter how awful you are under their breath instantly. So you’re stuck, silently staring at the screamy child who has pissed 20 people off in 20 seconds.
He has also developed a habit of throwing things and hitting things when he is angry. Especially at me, or the poor cat. I’m not sure if this is just an overflow of testosterone, a lack of communication/understanding or just a lack of getting-your-own-way-ness that is causing it, but I have no idea what to do at this point.
He never eats his food anymore either. No matter how long I take to make it, what it is or how much he loved it the day before, 9/10 times, it will end up on the floor. Sometimes he won’t even try it before he throws it, which is just absolutely infuriating. I tried offering him other food, but now I just put it straight in the bin. I am officially that “you’ll go to bed without pudding” parent.
I have tried the ‘ignore it’ method, the ‘be nice about it’ method, and the ‘scream back at him so he gets the point’ method. None of them work, which leads me to believe that being the parent of an 18 month old is just utter shit.
It’s like he knows I am pregnant, and he is doing everything in his power to make me regret that decision more and more every day. Christ, I hope the next one isn’t worse.
I am grinning and bearing it so much that my face hurts.
Hopefully, this will soon be a distant memory and I will tell you how lovely he is again soon, but at the moment I don’t want to lie and tell you how glorious it is, when it bloody isn’t. He is still sleeping through though, which is a bonus. I’ve never been so pleased for the quiet.
Was your 18 month old the same? How long did it last? Let me know, unless it is bad news… then please don’t.