Just for an example, here's a little of what it's like to live with your own personal Taz.
Walk in the kitchen to Taz standing on a chair and writing on the counter, some pennies, and his hand with a dry erase marker.
Clean everything up. Send him to the corner.
Turn around from taking dinner out of the oven to see Taz standing on a chair at the counter playing with the nasty thumb sucking nail polish. Tell him to put it back. Put plates on the table and turn to see Taz spilling the nail polish in a puddle on the counter.
Clean him and the counter up. Send him to the corner.
Eat dinner, realize that you indeed did get the nail polish on your hand. Which rubbed to your lip so now everytime you lick your lips you get some nasty. Awesome.
Clean up after dinner and then head to the living room. See Taz standing on a chair at the homework/craft table with piles of paper and craft supplies around him on the floor. Just about lose it.
Send him to the corner.
Oldest son is now wise enough to realize Mom has had enough so he picks up the papers (that he watched Taz scatter and said or did nothing to stop it) in hopes Mom will stay in a good mood and let them watch Christmas specials at 8:00.
At 8:00, put Taz to bed and let the older boys watch a Christmas special.
Repeat, day after day.
Is this just the "terrible twos"?