Losing my shit

I used to laugh when people mentioned the terrible twos.  I used to smile and think how these beautiful little treasures can be anything but delightful. Now I laugh, like a mad woman.  If anyone says ‘it’s a phase’ ‘oh but he is gorgeous’ ‘oh he is a good boy he could NEVER be naughty’ they are likely to get stabbed repeatedly with a blunt knife. Today is one of these days: So hubby came home…and I’ve run away to the bathroom and left hubby with the devil child, grunting instructions on what to do for dinner(leftovers) and scowled as the brat cuddles and kisses daddy when he’s been biting, kicking, punching, and generally doing my head in all day. Whilst hiding in the bathroom I decided to do a bit of research on the terrible twos, try and find some different methods, and failing that I may have googled ‘gags’ on eBay and been a little freaked out by the results… maybe I’ll just get myself a straight jacket.  Or Prosecco.  Ok both. It’s amazing how you have an idea of how you want to parent, things you say you will never do, how easy it will be. Well,…

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