Testing the Limits

This age has got to be the most draining yet.

The boys are 19.5 months old and into eeeevvveeerrryyyttthhhiiinnnggg. And they're testing the limits. And they're experimenting with their abilities. And they're seeing just how much I'll let them get away with. Both of them. Simultaneously.

If Benjamin is going for the computer plug, I'll say, "No Benjamin, don't touch." Jack's head immediately turns - even if he's across the room - and he runs to the plug. Because, of course, he's got to see if the same rule applies to him. This is even MORE annoying when it involves something physical. If Jack is standing on my computer desk chair with the weight of his body pressed against the back, he knows he'll get reprimanded. I mean, that thing can just tip backward at any moment! But the second I say, "Jonathan, sit down please," Ben's little legs carry him as fast as they can to the chair so he can test it too. Ugh. Then I'm manhandling two toddlers off of the computer chair who are both trying to nose-dive onto the floor.

And they're using this against me, too.

If I'm doing something in the kitchen - blocked off and separate from them - they obviously don't like that. So they'll do something bad just because they know it will get my attention. They'll cry for a while. Sob. Real tears and everything, trying to get me to stop what I'm doing and hold them both so they can see what I'm doing. You all know how impossible this is (especially when I've got to be at MOPS in an hour and these cookies need to be put in a container and their juice packaged into their cooler.) You simply cannot hold two toddlers and get much of ANYthing done, so I continue to ignore them. Two more minutes, I tell myself, then they'll have my attention. But when this is taking too long, they take matters into their own hands. They grab something they know not to touch, bite their brother in the arm or begin to climb onto the dining room table.

When I run to discipline them, comfort their brother or get them back to safe grounds, I can't help but notice that little grin on their face as if to say, Well, at least I got your attention.

And don't underestimate them either. They may not be able to say more than 20 words, but they understand SOOOO much more. Tonight at dinner, Jack wanted my water bottle. Now he had been given his own water bottle - a smaller, fatter water bottle more suited to his needs. But he wanted mine. If this was a battle of wills, I. will. win. So I refused, offering him his bottle yet keeping it far enough away for him to swat at it to show his disapproval. I knew what he wanted, but I would not comply. I was determined for him to understand so I tried to identify the different bottles. "Jonathan, this is mommy's water," I said, pointing to my water bottle. "This one is Jonathan's," pointing to his. "You can have Jonathan's water bottle or you're all done. You can't have mommy's." I kept offering it to him with the same results. So I put them both on the table, away from his reach.

A few minutes later, he came to sit on my lap and pointed at my water bottle saying, "peez, peez, peez." I identified each of the bottles again and he still refused to drink his. I thought I might test him to see if and how much he was understanding. "Jack, which one is mommy's water bottle?" He pointed to mine. I looked at Andy - both of us were amazed. "And which one is Jonathan's water bottle?" He pointed to his. I did this a few times and each time, he idenfied the correct bottle. He understood that one was mine and one was his. He eventually gave in and drank from his bottle, but not until he was completely sure I wasn't giving in.

That little stinker.

I suppose this is all developmental. But geez, can it be over yet? Thank God they're only awake 9 hours of the day... I need the other 13 to summon enough energy to do it all again tomorrow!