Two is tough. Like, really tough. I’m not talking about the terrible two’s either. I’m talking about the two small dictators that I live with. And to be fair, I have only been dealing with two for approximately 10 days. So I get it. I’m new to this, all of us are. We don’t have a routine established. We have a newborn who comes with all of those sleepless nights, the insane blowouts every few hours, and the non-stop all day cafe that are my boobs.

So how can this sweet little newborn be a dictator? For those exact reasons listed above. They somehow come out of the womb being dictators. They dictate when they eat, when they poop, when they pee, and when they cry. Next up, my legit dictator of a 4 year old. (Well, almost 4). She thinks she is the ruler of the tiny nation that is our household. She has always been bossy, strong-willed and knows what she wants and when she wants it. I have always said that all of these traits will come in handy in life, especially as a female in today’s work force, but right now?! Give me a damn break! She is tough, and only has been tougher because of Camryn entering the world. Harper has been absolutely lovely to Camryn so I am so happy to report on that piece. However with me? Some days she looks at me with these eyes of disgust (which eats away at my soul and gives me the most intense mom guilt) and other days she is genuinely so thrilled that she has a baby sister to stare at and “play” with. Basically just stare at because babies don’t do any sort of play.

In my short span of time with two, I haven’t done one errand with the two of them. I’m basically so damn afraid to. Unless if you count going through a drive-thru. Then if that is the case, gold stars for everyone! Hooray, we went to CVS to pick up medicine, Dunkin Donuts to get the bi-polar dictator some munchkins so she would leave me the fuck alone for 2 minutes while she ate them and that is about it.

The only other time I have ventured out with the leadership is day two of Camryns life where she had a doctors appointment. That appointment turned out to almost everything that I thought it would be. My child telling the nurse as we stood up to follow her to the room that she made her wait so long and basically what the hell was the hold up for? (Thanks, Harper.) It was in that very room when I asked Harper four hundred times to get off of the scale, stop trying to sit on the small midget-like wheely chair (in fear of her splitting her head open. Side note: why is that damn hazard the go to chair for doctors? Get one with back support and no damn wheels for christ sake!), and for her to stop taking 7 pairs of gloves that she looked at me and said “I don’t have to listen to you and I won’t and I will stomp on my baby”. Then, mini dictator decides she needs to nurse at that very moment. So what do I do? I cried. Yup, cried because that is apparently what you do when you don’t have the words to gently reprimand your firstborn child who just said they wanted to kill their sibling and the weight of the world is on your shoulders every single damn day because you’re a mom and that is just how it goes.

The picture above is from that same doctors appointment where Camryn was just 2 days old and Harper decided that she had to “pee so badly it’s gonna come out everywhere” and I couldn’t rush the two of them back in to the doctor’s office. Good thing I carry a potty, good thing my car was the first in the row so that everyone could see the show, and good thing at least one child was asleep. So, for me, right now, right this very moment…two is tough. The adjustment period has been hard. I haven’t been able to get Harper to school for 8am yet and stroll in about 9:30am every day because for the life of me I can’t get Harper, Camryn or myself dressed, fed, and out the door with any sort of grace.

So for now, I have a 4 year old bi-polar dictator that I will continue to live with as well as a mini newborn dictator. I have panic attacks just thinking about our first trip to the grocery store. Hello peapod services because why in the hell not? But first, I just have to get my husband the financial dictator on board with that decision!