Anyway - there has been such a shift in behavior lately that it has to be the prelude to three. I heard all throughout the trenches of two that three was worse and I thought, "HOW? How is that possible?" Now I realize. It's possible because they are so much better at articulating their thoughts, emotions, pissiness, defiance, dislikes and general malaise. They can say stuff like, "I'm just being rude. I like rude. If you don't like rude, I'm sorry." Or... "No, thank you. I don't want to get off my sister. Yes. I hear her screaming but I'm having fun."

On the other hand, I don't feel as guilty about doling out punishments because they clearly understand that there are consequences for their misdoings. This morning we didn't get to go to musical storytime because Belly wouldn't eat breakfast. Buggy was pretty pissed at her, too. Come to think of it, I was pretty pissed at her. I wanted to see our friends. Instead we watched Sesame Street so I didn't have to come up with a project or something to otherwise fill the time we would've been out. I'm good like that (read: lazy like that).

God I sound whiny. And of course I am - this is where I get to vent that shit. But can I give you an example of what I'm dealing with?

Today, 5:14pm - we're all in the kitchen

Belly: "Mommy! I have to go to the bathroom!"

Me: "Great! Let's go upstairs!"

Buggy: "I'm taking my hairbrush."

Belly: "I need my special baby. Where's my special baby?" Starting to whine and cry. "I can't go to the bathroom without Charlotte!"

Me: "Skip Charlotte. If you have to use the bathroom, let's go now."

Belly: "NOOOOOOOO!"

Me: "Fine. Then I guess you don't really have to use the bathroom. We'll stay down here and you can play with Charlotte."

Belly: "NO! I have to go!"

Buggy: "Mommy! I'm upstairs already!"

Today, 5:18pm - Belly is on the toilet. Buggy is trying to brush her hair.

Belly: "Bug! Give me some privacy!"

Buggy: "Let me brush your hair."

Belly: "Buggy! Give me some space!"

Buggy: "No. I'm brushing your hair."

Me: "Buggy. Move away from your sister. Go out in the hall or play in your room until she's done in the bathroom."

Buggy: "No thanks, Mom. I'm fine brushing her hair."

Belly: blood curdling scream out of frustration

I remove the Bug from the bathroom and yell at Belly not to scream.

Today, 5:20pm - Belly is still on the toilet. Buggy is throwing diapers all over the hallway.

Me: "Buggy. Don't do that with the diapers. Stack them up where they were, please."

Buggy: "No. I don't have to." And she dances down the hall to her room, a diaper wake behind her.

Today, 5:23pm - Belly has successfully peed in the toilet and is washing her hands. I have convinced the Bug to try to pee, too, and she is now perched on the toilet.

Buggy: "Belly, stop washing your hands. I want privacy."

Belly: "No. I'm not done yet."

Buggy: "Yes. Stop washing your hands. You have to."

Belly: "No! I'm not done yet!"

Both girls start whining and repeating their lines until I tell everyone to knock it off.

Today, 5:29pm - Buggy is washing her hands even though she didn't pee and I'm now going about my business on the toilet. Belly is throwing diapers as high as she can in the hallway.

Me: "Buggy. You have enough soap. You have enough soap. YOU HAVE ENOUGH SOAP."

Buggy: "Okay. Now I need more water." And she turns the water up all the way, splashing it all over the counter and floor and squealing because she knows I'm wiping as fast as I can to yank her away. Which I do.

And then she says, "Sorry. Don't be angry. I love you. Clean up my mess."

That, my friends, is a random 15-minute snapshot of my day. Nothing too terrible. Nothing too great. Just average. And relentless - so motherfucking relentless. Ugh.