This one is breaking my balls.
And I think he senses it because every time I try to take a step back, he just takes another twenty forward until he is wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket of whiney need.
Oh, I love him. That's not in question. And no-one makes me laugh like this kid. He operates on a frequency all his own and it's entertaining to say the least.
But the irrational nature of the two-almost-three-year-old is testing me. And finding me lacking.
Part of the toilet training process we are currently neck-deep in involves the reward of a lolly. But when the kid REFUSES to use the toilet while screaming for a marshmallow, it's hard not to lose one's mind. Sure, okay, you might not need to go right now but when you do, the marshmallow will be there waiting, all pink and fluffy and hitting that sweet spot that turns your volume down for those blissful…minutes. It's a straightforward concept and we've been through it many times before.
Before I was out of bed this morning, Ziggy had knocked over a cup of chocolate milk, pissed his pants AND pissed on a hobby horse. I can't even…
And then there's the infuritating "already" reply. For example:
Zig: I want ice-cream.
Me: And you'll get ice-cream after dinner if you're a good boy.
Zig: I a good boy already.
Me: Zig, do you need to do wee on the toilet?
Zig: I do wees already.
It's hard to argue. Technically, he's right. He has absolutely already done a wee but it seems cruel to remind him that the last time he said that, he peed twelve litres onto the lounge room floor not five minutes later.
Of course, Luca was once this age. I should know what I'm doing. But Luca was never so persistent. Or so loud. This kid wears me down. Not with tantrums. No, he just prefers to cry at a decibel that will shatter you eardrums and your very last nerve.
I don't want to cave to his tiny tyranny but how do you go hard ass on a little face like his?