Chaos, thy name is toddler.

When was the last time I wrote? January? Strange, but I haven't been able to put words to events recently. Not exactly sure why this is, but maybe it has to do with the fact that:

MY KIDS ARE KICKING MY ASS.

As I look over all of my previous entries, I find the common thread through them all is one of goodness and wonder and, well, simply an overall feeling that I have something like a grip on this whole business of raising children.

Tsk...tsk...tsk....silly me. In fact, I have been introduced to a whole new spectrum of experience that has washed away some of the naivete that is inherent to anything new we find ourselves involved in. The early days, the salad days, regardless of the details are filled with vigor and an untested enthusiasm. That is until the day you meet reality. It goes a little like this:

Life: Hello there Scott, I'd like you to meet someone new. This is Mr. Reality.

Me: Hi, nice to meet you.

Mr. Reality: You too, by the way I just wanted to let you know that from now on your kids are gonna kick your ass.

Me: ......OK thanks.

The boys are three now. They just turned this milestone a few weeks back and with this age comes their own concept of "self". It's like for the first time they are beginning to realize that they are indeed people with their own thoughts and desires.

How dare they! How dare they have thoughts of their own! Nobody told me that my kids would actually be their own people and not lock-step in behind me, like, all the time!

Life: Uh...excuse me Scott. That's the way it works with raising kids.

Me: Really!!??!! I had no idea.

Life: Yeah, it's in the manual. The How To Be A Successful Parent and Raise Good Children manual. You didn't get it?

Me: You're lying. There is no such manual is there? You're totally making that one up.

Life: Yeah, you're right. Sorry. You just gotta figure it out as you go along. Ask your parents.

In truth, I find it hard sometimes now. The boys test my patience to no end. Someone must have come along and dumped a whole bucketful of self-awareness into them because sheesh, they sure like to talk about themselves A LOT. There is a great deal of "mine!" and a goodly portion of tears when things don't go their way.

Whoever said all of this business about "terrible-twos", yeah well, they must've never had kids. It feels like now that they've hit three that it's all gone a bit more complicated. At the end of it all, I simply want to feel like I'm doing a good job.

In some ways, all that has passed up to this point was just a primer. Now is when the real parenting begins.