My least favorite stage

I don't think it's a newsflash for anyone out there... two year olds are lame. Really, two year olds are just terrible. Or at least, mine is. Jude is in the worst phase ever, and it's really starting to weigh on me.

How can I best describe Jude right now? He constantly says NO to EVERYTHING, even things he actually wants. He throws monstrous tantrums about everything under the sun. His two new favorite tantrum techniques are getting on all fours and banging his head on the ground, and what I've deemed the silent protest: just laying down on the floor and refusing to move (this is usually used in public). He wants everything and nothing, he needs your constant attention, he doesn't back down easily. Jude has figured out the old "bad attention is better than no attention" thing, so any time I try to get something done around the house, or play with Ellie, or just take a quick breather, he goes into destructive mode.

Today I caught Jude stuffing fishy crackers in the crack between the front door and the door post.

Yesterday he squirted his juice box all over the floor because I told him to drink it in the kitchen.

Earlier I told him to take off his shoes so he stomped on his sister's fingers.

At Costco, he kept just laying down on the floor, for no apparent reason other than he could.

I left the room for a minute and Jude threw a toy at our brand new TV and broke it.

You know what I absolutely hate the most right now? Getting Jude drinks. Seriously, he is obsessed with juice. And he always decides he must have it right this very second when it's very inconvenient. Then he takes his sippy cup and leaves it somewhere random around the house, and comes back 20 minutes later demanding more. By the end of the day all the sippy cups are missing, and by the time I find them the milk inside has usually curdled.

Example: this morning Jude started screaming for juice. I was in the middle of feeding Ellie. After a few minutes of screaming, I couldn't take it anymore so I put Ellie down and went to get him juice. The second I opened the fridge he grabbed a gogurt (those things are more trouble than they're worth). So then I had to open it, which requires scissors (have you ever tried to open one of those things? It's impossible!). Then, I got him his juice. Just as I put it on the table, Jude started screaming at the Nesquik for chocolate milk. I just got you juice, dude! Drink that first! Epic meltdown ensues. Its 7 am, I'm exhausted, so I get him a chocolate milk and stick the juice in the fridge for later. JOOS! JOOS! he screams now. Seriously, you want the juice NOW?!

And don't even get me started about snacks. The kid thinks I'm a never ending buffet of fishy crackers and fruit snacks.

Everyone keeps telling me that kids are fine at 2, but turn horrible at 2 1/2, then get better at 3, and worst again at 3 1/2. You mean this gets WORSE?! This constant barrage of defiance is somehow going to be better in retrospect?!

Oh, but Jude's smart. When he knows he's in trouble, he turns on the charm. He'll suddenly smile and say, "HUG!" and give me a big, cute hug. I think Peter put it best: their cuteness is a survival tool. Oh well. In the end, Jude's still pretty adorable and we do love him. Even if he breaks our new TV.