I Will Survive...Won't I?!

I think it's time to resign myself to the fact that I'm probably going to be one of those people that puts their kid on a kid leash.

I blame having a girl first. Layla was perfectly content in a stroller. She loved to ride in the shopping cart. She adored her car seat. When she was old enough to walk, she understood (and still understands) to stay right by our side and hold our hands. She was awesome, completely brag-worthy in every way.

So really, I should have seen it coming.

Ben is a human tornado. Do you know why I haven't written a blog in over five weeks? I've literally been chasing Ben the whole time and this is the first chance I've had to sit down. He's nuts. Hates the stroller, will scream absolute bloody murder after spending ten minutes in it. Cannot stand the shopping cart. When's he's done being strapped in, he will simply unstrap himself and start throwing things out. Charming. And the car seat? He figured out how to unstrap it when he was nine months old and subsequently tries to Houdini himself out every time he's in it. And forget putting him down to walk. The second he's down he's off like a shot and I'm chasing after him.

Suffice it to say, it's exhausting and further proof on how girls are so much different than boys. We feel (occasional tantrums aside) that we're cruising through having a girl. The only thing remotely exhausting about Layla is her constant stream of talking that begins roughly thirty seconds before she's awake and ends about an hour after she falls asleep. It's non-stop, but usually highly entertaining. She didn't make us suffer too much through the "terrible two's", the only exception being the time she took off her diaper and used her poop as finger paint, an absolutely revolting act so completely vile we dubbed her "Poocaso"."Terrible Three's" were moderate, the worst being a sassy attitude, and four is shaping up to be the year of talking back. But Layla has never been a human tornado, and even if she was, enough time has passed that the "bad" times seem tame in comparison to Ben. If anything, some of the hardest times (namely the "Poocaso" incident) wound up being the times that turned into the funniest stories. 

So far, Ben's "terrible two's" aren't terribly funny.

Not only are Layla and Ben continuous proof of the difference between boys and girls, they also seem to illustrate the glaring difference in personalities between siblings. Ben is an extrovert through and through, which is probably why he can't stand to be strapped into something. Because really, why sit in a stroller when you can tear through the library on foot dispensing slobbery, open-mouthed kisses to everyone in your path (a weekly occurrence for Ben)? Layla is an introvert who needs to observe someone for at least forty-five minutes before she grants you a smile. And that's just the tip of their personality icebergs.

The best way I can think of describing it is that, for me, raising children is like a math class. It's difficult, panic-inducing, and no matter how hard I study, I always feel like I'm on the brink of failing every test. I'm using the same equation with each kid, plugging in the same numbers, but coming up with different answers. Kids are an incredible amount of work and everyone (including me) thinks that they understand that until they actually have kids. "Terrible two's" in theory are much, much different from "terrible two's" in progress.

So for now, while I contemplate a kid leash, I will continue to chase after Ben everywhere we go and continue to apologize to all of the people he tries to make out with. And I will comfort myself with cliches. Some day this will be a funny memory. It's just a stage. This too shall pass. I will survive....

Won't I?!