The funny thing about two-year olds is...

The funny thing about two-year-olds is...everything. Everything about them is ridiculous. Two-year-olds are ridiculous people. They're old enough to be independent and defiant but often too young to explain ways to make their lives easier. They can recite their favorite song but can't remember anything about the 50 million times you told them not to color on the walls. They want to dress themselves, which often means you're leaving the house with a child whose shoes are not only on the wrong feet, she's also made a brave attempt to wear pants like a shirt. Your pants.
I have a disciplinary book that swears by the counting method, as long as it is used with consistency. e.g. Don't count if you don't plan on getting up and putting them in time out. This does not work when you're in a store and your kid is acting like the grocery cart is a surf board. Time out? Where? In the corner of the cart? Please. So you threaten to take something away from them that they really like. The problem with this is that you have to remember to bring something they really like everywhere you go. You also have to depend on that particular toy to keep it's charm throughout the trip, which often isn't the case. Baby dolls lose their luster, electronic toys get monotonous, and candy is consumed too quickly with dire sugar-related consequences. So I've recently moved on to a worse threat: buckles. To my daughter there is nothing the world worse than confinement (or a shower but that's a story for another day).  Since I have an infant now it means moving the sleeping baby from her carseat that cleverly snaps into the cart, and putting a screaming, thrashing two year old in the seat and strapping her in while the baby hangs out in the lower section.
I have done this quite a few times on many a grocery trip. Always at the same store. The amazing thing about it? People still tell me my kid is cute. They smile at her, talk to her, the cashiers comment on how big she's getting. It's strange if you don't realize the fact that most of them have gone through the same thing. Sure their kids are always different and they've had to make different adjustments than mine because of it, but they've all had the same tired look in their eyes. They've all had the same feeling of embarrassment and parenting inadequacy. You can follow the advice of a discipline book exactly and still not get the results it promises. Children are imperfect and so are their parents. So why do we do this? Why do we put up with the frustration and exhaustion? Because it's amazing. Because even when they're screaming from their bedroom when they're supposed to be taking a nap while mommy's writing her blog, you love them. Because nothing can darken the sweet moments of pure joy you spend with them. Because you can never forget that look on their face when they figure out how to draw that circle for the first time, or when they cuddle up to you while you read a book and the whole world slows down just to keep the moment a little longer.
So I move on, sometimes smiling, sometimes not, but never, never regretting the choice I made to start a family. And when things get really tough, I can always somehow make time to read a comic book in the bathtub. :)