Not a perp.

I've been annoyed with people who use the adjective "terrible" to describe their two-year-old.  I think these little ones get a bad wrap because they experience everything in extremes and can quickly move from elated to angry in a split second.  I know that I am on the very cusp of experiencing a true two-year-old, but I have experienced countless outbursts that would rival any natural disaster.  So yeah, my kid will scream, throw his body on the floor, chuck anything in reach, hit, kick, and pout with the best of 'em.  We've become accustom to this behavior, but don't have to like it, right? 

And then there's Jimmy...

When I met Jimmy, I remember noticing that he had a very short temper with everyone but me.  (Awwh, how sweet...)  I think part of this comes from his personality type because he sees the world in black and white.  You are either wrong or right, and the wrong get punished.  I have seen his anger played out in various ride-alongs and it didn't end well for the ones in the wrong.  Since becoming a parent, Jimmy has mellowed considerably.  It has been endearing to watch him change not only toward our children but also toward the world.  Being a parent has made him a better person.

But Ashton is two and there are times when he can make even the most mellow person see red.

The other day, we had to leave to go to the store to buy supplies for Ashton's birthday. Ashton wanted to stay at the house.  Tantrum ensued.  Jimmy picked up Ashton kicking a screaming and you guessed it, got kicked square in the family jewels.  Jimmy released Ashton, overcome with pain and purple with anger, and said over and over "he is not a perp; he is my son.  He is not a perp; he is my son."  Jimmy was so mad that the only thing that spared Ashton was his DNA ...

I too have seen red and had to invoke the "he is not a perp" mantra.  Last night Ashton woke up a hundred and fifty two times, each time with a different stall tactic.  First it was "rub my back," then it was "sing to me," then it was "I have to pee-pee," then it was "I have to poop," then it was screaming and kicking and running around and UGH.  By the end of it, I was madder than a wet hen because with every outburst guess who would join in the fun?  So I had two kids screaming and crying pretty much all night last night, which was of course a very important night for us.  Jimmy started his new job and I wanted him to get a good night's sleep.  I probably should have wished for a bad night's sleep because the kids sixth sense would have made them do opposite.

After hours of fighting, both kids finally went to sleep.  As I crawled into bed, so enraged I couldn't close my eyes, Jimmy rolled over and pulled me to him saying "I'm sorry babe."  All I could quietly utter was "He's not a perp; he's not a perp..."