My son turns two in August. He’s been exhibiting a lot of behavior that falls squarely into the “terrible twos” category since about 17/18 months. I’ve been told this is normal. I’ve been told it gets better at two, then bad again at three. I’ve been told “just wait until two.” Whatever the answer, I’m hoping it either ends soon or I’m granted about 500 more patience points by the divine.

 Seemingly overnight, my son transformed from a kid we could take anywhere—WOULD take anywhere thanks to his perfect restaurant behavior—into a child that can’t handle sitting in a shopping cart for five minutes while in Target because all he wants to do is squirm and run around and knock things over.

 It’s a tough stage. It’s a stage that makes you doubt yourself as a parent. It pushes you far beyond your patience limit and then back again. It’s a stage where one parent is pitted against the other at times, just desperately trying to find a way to make it through our cheeseburgers on a Friday night out in public.

 Time-outs work pretty well, but my husband and I are still frazzled and on-edge after a particularly difficult tantrum session. But, thankfully, we’ve found a way to cope—we laugh. We joke that living with our son is like living with a very tiny, very loud, very destructive drunk person–emotionally unstable, extreme mood swings, wobbly gait, copious amounts of drool, liquids spilled on the carpet and a predilection for running around naked. It’s like living with a college student.

 So, here’s hoping that this challenging stage passes soon—although it’s sort of the-devil-you-know-versus-the-devil-you-don’t. Because I’ll probably look back at this post later on in life, after he’s totaled our car or something similar, and wish time-outs still worked.

 But, I’d love to hear any other suggestions or comments—even if it’s just to express shared misery!