Boys being boys

Parenting a little boy can be very interesting. I'm trying to avoid stereotyping him however he really does seem to be a typical boy. Always curious, very little fear when it comes to climbing, jumping, exploring etc, ridiculous amounts of energy and always on the go.

I decided to take him to the beach this past weekend so he could run off some of that energy. It worked a little too well which meant I had the enviable task of convincing him to leave after an hour and a half. I figured by this point he had a pocket full of beach rocks, a couple of sand dollars (no longer living) a couple of shells, he'd picked up 3 starfish and chased too many crabs to count. His shorts were soaked along with the rest of him (and me) and his shoes were full of sand. This, to me, means we've had a succesful day at the beach and it's time to go. This, to M, means we should keep going and see just how much stuff we can find. After some kicking and screaming, a little down to his level discussion and a compromise, we were wandering the path back to the car picking flowers along the way. Next time I take him to the beach it will be with a lot of hours to waste.

Yesterday we went grocery shopping. Normally this entails carrying a basket and not buying much so M can carry one side and put everything in the basket. On this particular day we were having a shopping cart shop which is a little more difficult. It requires a stop at the bakery for the free cookie and a race through the aisles worthy of an Indy car driver hoping to finish before he has finished the cookie. When he has finished the cookie he starts to climb out of the cart. Then he pushes the cart for me which is actually not so bad. Once he's bored with that you can never tell what he's going to try. Yesterday he climbed in to the bottom portion of the cart, sat down and moved everything from the bottom to the top. Once he was satisfied he decided to jump. This is one of his newest favorite things to do. "Jump, jump, jump. Mommy, jump!" I hear that a lot. Obviously this was not the place to jump so after telling him this I started walking around the cart to put him on the floor so he could walk and jump. This is when he decided to jump again and lost his balance. Back he fell, off the cart, back of his head on the floor. A gigantic scream from him and a barely there breath from me. 5 years off my total lifespan in that one moment.

Off to the hospital we went since he was really not acting like his normal self after a bang up (we see a good number of bonks around our house) Half an hour of waiting and we got a lovely doctor who has a 2 year old boy himself. He knew just how to handle a little guy and efficiently checked him over. Final verdict... concussion. We have had our first officially labeled bonk. Likely the first of many although I expect over the years I'll see more sprains and broken things to go with the concussions.

One more first off the list and M has proven once again that he is a boy through and through.

Words

It's amazing how powerful words can be for a little guy. M's vocabulary is expanding on a daily, minute by minute basis. Most days he chatters happily and you can understand half of what he's telling you. The last few days he's been really clear. This has been a slight problem as well as a really great thing. The problem being that I said a bad phrase... and he repeated me. Which caused us all to laugh (completely wrong reaction) so he said it again. You get the picture. Now I'm trying to say "no honey you mean to say sit" hmmm, I wonder what my bad words were.

The upside is the moments where he can get his point across. Yesterday he finally said "love mommy" He's said this to other people but never to me. This morning he was angry and frustrated over a toy and he said "M sad" Maybe he doesn't entirely understand but he knew he was crying which means he's sad. He can use his words to ask for help, to voice his displeasure and to tell us he's happy.

While I'm finding the 2's frustrating, I can also see this wonderful, stubborn, willful little boy developing and it's beautiful to watch. I'm sure I'm in for a whole lot of frustration over the years but a few "love mommy" and "hug" moments will more than make up for it.

Puppies, toddlers and sanity

4:47 am, Mommy radar goes off, eyes open, ears at attention. Yup, there's the tell tale wake up whine coming from the room next to ours. I jump out of bed hoping that if I can just get in there before he crawls out of bed, maybe I can get him back to sleep. No such luck. All I managed to do was instigate the mother of all screaming matches for "MILK". Pick him up, cart him in to the darkened kitchen, open the fridge (with no light since it burned out yesterday) grab the milk, fill the bottle, warm it for a few seconds and hand it to the obviously desperate and starving boy. Cart him back to his bed, and miracle of miracles, we got another hour and a bit of sleep. What does it say about my life that this small victory made my morning.

While this was going on I could hear the pup whining wanting to join in the fun. At some point during my 5 am mini nap with M the pup got off our bed roamed the house and left a present for me in the hall. So, when I finally crawled out of bed around 6:30, I open M's door to 2 dogs excitedly waiting, one toddler pushing past me, 2 cats running for their lives and a smelly present at my feet. Oh, and let's not forget my stupidly high blood sugars which I'm pretty sure is due to a continued lack of sleep.

Is there any chance for sanity today? I'm not so sure. The plan for the day is to clear out the kitchen. This is going to mean putting up shelves and anytime you throw in a project involving tools, hubby and I inevitably differ on our approach. As a rule it means a few cranky, snappy moments with someone walking away for a few minutes after saying "Whatever" with a hand in the air. I suppose it's better than not getting done though.

Life

Life has really gotten the better of me lately and for that I apologize. To anyone who reads this and to myself. I truly enjoy writing something down at the end of the day however I've found I've let excuses get in the way. Normally it's the "just let me sit with my glass of wine and enjoy my half hour of peace and quiet before I have to go to bed." excuse. Who wants to type when they have such a small window of me time.

Life is evolving as it always does. The pup has settled in nicely. We have all the normal puppy issues but sleep has been taken care of and she doesn't howl through the night. She's sleeping with us. Smack in the middle with her long puppy legs and cold puppy nose. occasionally I'll find her snuggled at the bottom with an unsuspecting cat. That lasts until the cat wakes up and realizes it's been snuggling with the "thing"

M is sleeping in his big bed now. He wanted to go right to a double so he'd have a big bed just like mommy and daddy. This means I wake up to him lurking in the middle of the night. 3 am visits where he's hovering directly over me. Sometimes he launches himself over me to get to the middle of our bed where he finds a puppy, causing him to scream "No Puppy!" and push her to get her out of his way. This leads to me picking him up, returning him to bed and in my sleepy zombie like state agreeing to lay down with him. Thank goodness he's in a double bed now or I'd be really cramped trying to snuggle up. One of these days I'm not going to fall asleep and I'll make it back to my own bed.

Lost my marbles

It's been a while since I've posted anything. I find lately I'm too exhausted to consider writing. That seems really terrible because, really, how hard is it to write. It seems really hard these days.

M has not been sleeping well. We've been thinking he's having nightmares but I've realized it's likely because there have been so many changes in his little life these last few weeks. These have not been big changes but he tends to be very sensitive to anything different and if it's not routine it really throws him off.

A couple of weeks ago, a boy he has gone to daycare with from the beginning stopped coming. Everyone wondered where he was and near the end of the week we found out his dad had passed and he was in the care of social services. He was M's friend, his little playtime buddy and although they don't really play much together at 2 they still form bonds. M's little world had changed with no warning.

Then we had our niece and nephew stay with us for a few days. M loves them. He cried for them when they left. He still looks out the window every once in a while and asks for them.

Now we have a puppy. I truly must have lost my mind somewhere along the way. M was not sleeping well before the puppy. Now he's really not sleeping because the puppy howls. All night. I think she stopped for about 3 hours the first night. It didn't matter, since in the time she stopped M woke up and started screaming instead. Sleep exists only in my imagination.

This morning I woke up at 6:30. An hour before I had to. I realized this was actually a good thing. This would give me a whole hour to drink coffee in relative quiet. I'm so deluded. I let the dogs out, came back up with them, went to pour my coffee and heard " Mommeeee" So much for peace and quiet with my coffee.

We watched the morning news for a little while and then I popped a little Sesame Street on so I could get ready for work. M was dressed, the puppy was in her crate, lunches were packed and we were ready to go. Until M let the puppy out of the crate. 4 times. Chase the puppy, catch the puppy, put the puppy in the crate, convince M to leave the house. Repeat. I finally gave up, went out the door, put the stuff in the car, came back and found M hanging out at the top of the steps with the older dog. He didn't see the need to leave the house. It took almost 30 minutes from the time we were ready to go until the time we actually made it into the car. There was a lot of kicking and screaming.

Tomorrow morning we start puppy classes. After I drop M at daycare. If someone finds me parked in the driveway, sleeping behind the wheel, you now know why.

Travel

We had an adventure last week. Well, M had an adventure. I had stress.

I thought it was a great idea to head to Whitehorse for a little over a week with M and without the support of my other half. We were off to visit family, do a little work and have a lot of fun at the Yukon Sourdough Rendezvous festival. What could be better than that? I didn't think forward to the point A to point B portion of the trip.

First we had a ferry ride to Vancouver. This was spent chasing after M, putting him on his halter, dragging my bags after him as he ran from the playroom giggling loudly and screaming and kicking when I forced him to sit down for a minute. This was followed by a lovely overnight visit with some great friends. Then it was off to the airport.

What can I say about the airport... I used the halter. I was frazzled. I was that parent that we are all guilty of watching. The exhausted, frustrated, at her wits end mom. I chased, cajoled, bribed and pleaded for over an hour. Finally, about half an hour before the flight, I broke out the Gravol. I went from crazed looking to calm in about 15 minutes. Now I was the mom who drugs her kid. I didn't feel quite so badly about that when we got on the plane and he slept the entire two and a half hours. Granted it was his nap time so it might not have just been the Gravol. I'm sure all the other passengers were happy with my decision. I later learned that every mom I knew and talked to did the same thing with their darling little ones when they were simply too young to sit still.

The visit was wonderful. I got to spend time with some really special friends and relaxed with my family. M got to see his first parade which he loved because they gave out candy. We took him to the airshow where he hollered "No,No,No" when we tried to get him to look at the inside of the plane. He was really excited about the fire truck. So we spent our time at the airshow checking out the firetruck and M had a great conversation with the fireman on the truck. We had lots of chilled out time with his Grandma and Grandad and he had a blast chasing puppies and playing with magnets on their fridge. There were friends I didn't get to see and friends I wish I could have spent more time with but all in all it was a really good trip.

Then we boarded the plane to go home. I opted for the Gravol method again. It failed me. He slept for the first 45 minutes and then he woke up. He was not a happy camper. He was stuck in his seat and no matter how many Dora movies I put on or how many books I pulled out he was not about to quiet down. It was a long hour and a half. His favorite part of the plane ride was the landing when we sped down the runway and he stared out the window at everything going by.

The ferry ride was a reverse of the previous one. We had a lovely lunch. Well, I had a lovely lunch while M watched Dora. Then we headed off to the play area. M spent the rest of the ferry ride going up and down the slide. He was happy as could be. I was happy to sit down. I was even happier when we arrived home later that day.

Life has gone back to normal. We had a couple of sleepless nights but last night was normal so maybe we are back on track.

Life gets in the way

 

As you can plainly see I haven't been keeping up with this to the degree I had hoped to. I'll attribute that to life keeping me occupied. The upside for me is that I have no shortage of things to say rather than trying to come up with something that might entertain anyone reading this. 

I figure I should also explain the picture I put in today. M thinks diapers on the head are hilarious. He thinks it's even better if his daddy or I put one on our heads too. I managed to get a few pictures of M and my other half goofing around with the diapers on their heads and I had to edit and post it. I didn't put the joint picture up. I sent it to family and posted it on Facebook. I've pushed the limits of  sharing those photos. Since I generally like my husband and actually want to keep him I have to stop sharing those pictures. So, if you haven't seen them you will have to trust me. They are the funniest pictures I have ever taken. Ever. Ridiculously funny. Made better since it was obvious they were both having a great time during their diaper head bonding.

M has settled in to day care life well. This week he canned the drama and is simply going in the door and settling himself just like he would at home. C says he's the helper and a good friend. He'll share unless it's really important to him and he takes care of the baby dolls. He likes to turn the lights on and off when anyone is going to be changed and he likes to sit on the potty while the other boys get changed. 

Here's how I know he's comfortable and likes being with C. As I mentioned before, we get written updates every day letting us know what he did. Here was his update Thursday "keep removing my drawers and sitting on my potty. Never know if M's going to have his pants on!" 

This is exactly what it's like at home too. One minute he's dressed, the next minute he has no pants on. They can usually be found in the garbage can since, logically, that's where dirty diapers go. It's one of the best games going. He takes them off, we retrieve them and try to get them back on. Every parent who's done the naked bum chase knows it's fruitless. The pants are going to be off 3 seconds later, as soon as you turn your back. The only thing you can do is let them enjoy their moment and pray there are no bodily functions on the carpet. Those can happen in the kitchen, on the linoleum, where it's easy to clean up. Don't think I'm unrealistic. I've seen the wet line on my carpet where he obviously marked his territory. I simply continue to hope that if he's going to have any major accidents, I'll get lucky and he'll go in the kitchen. Where the linoleum is. The really ugly linoleum that is going to go one day so who really cares what happens to it now.

Off I go now, back to life which is sure to distract me from my next intended post. I'll get to it eventually though.

Daycare

I have no way to express the feelings I'm having about M being in day care. On the one hand, I have the supreme guilt when I drop him off. This is reinforced by M having a total meltdown when I try to put him down once we reach C's house. Who knew my child was part Monkey. I had no idea he had these climbing skills. He can scale me from the floor to my shoulder in 2 seconds flat if I'm trying to get him to go down so I can leave. I have to do the drop and run as I listen to him wail all the way to my car. C promises me that he only cries for a minute or two. I have to believe her.

The flip side of this is the joy of being by myself. Even if it is only for 5 minutes on the way to the office. It's 5 minutes of me time. There's no one else in the car, I can sing, I can scream, I can simply enjoy the quiet. It is freeing. It's needed. I have forgotten myself. I have forgotten what it's like to have moments thinking of nothing but myself. There is no worrying about what my son needs/wants. There is no cleaning or worrying about what the house looks like before my other half gets home. I'm not trying to figure out what I'm going to make for dinner or what's going to be packed in to everyone's lunches. There is no pressure from anyone else in those moments between daycare and the office. It's just me and even though it's only been 2 days, they have been very clear moments.

So, here's my M story for the day. C, the woman who runs the daycare he goes to, is amazing. Yesterday was an art day and he came home with a lovely finger painted picture with his hand prints on it. He also gets to come home every day with a paper that tells me everything he did for the day What he ate, how long he napped and what they did/played. Yesterday his paper said that Micah put the baby doll in a high chair and fed her crackers during lunch. He also got to watch Sesame Street because it's his favorite. Today his sheet said that it was dress up day and M was a pink butterfly and he was beautiful. He was beautiful. When I walked in to pick him up he came running in head to toe pink. Pink slippers, pink full body suit, big pink butterfly wings. His little daycare buddy was wearing a lovely purple full body tutu and he looked just as lovely. Apparently C had let them pick what they wanted from the dress up box and this was the result.

My first question (obviously) was whether or not she had pictures. Because, really, when am I ever going to see my son dressed up as a little pink butterfly? My second question was how the heck to get it off. He was quite determined to leave it on. We did eventually convince him to take it off. I wouldn't have minded taking a pink butterfly home but I wasn't sure I'd ever get it off him once we were home.

So, his day was full. He was happy when I picked him up. He is napping with no fuss while he is there and he is eating well. Oh, and he's learning new words which means he obviously respects/likes C because, although he is a talker, he is not a talker around people he doesn't like. I guess that I can suck it up in the mornings and recognize the drama for what it is. As long as he continues to be a happy little boy when I pick him up not much else matters.

Memory

Turns out M has a pretty long memory. He knows when we go to the big box grocery store that Daddy's work is right there too. We pull in to the parking lot and he starts to yell for Daddy. We have a very short trip to the store because he's melting down about Daddy for the duration of the shopping trip. Unless I bribe him with granola bars or smarties. In a real pinch we get the free cookie from the bakery. This is a normal trip to the grocery store for me.

Today we went for a quick trip. He held true to form and hollered Daddy as soon as we entered the parking lot. We ran in, grabbed diapers and milk, and ran back out in to the rain. I got him in to the car and we played the car seat game. This is the ever so familiar game...How straight can I make myself so mommy can't get me in the seat. He's pretty darn good at this game and he can go straight as a board, with no chance of me getting those little hips down in the seat. I bribed. I pointed out Daddy's work. I said we'd go see Daddy if he just sat in his seat. He sat. I strapped him in quickly, got in the car and headed for the other side of the parking lot.

We wandered in and Daddy was right at the front of the store. M was oh so happy to see him but he refused to let Daddy hold him. I couldn't figure out why since he's normally really eager to go to Daddy. And then it hit me. I had left him with his Daddy last week while I had some maintenance done on my car. I walked him in, gave him to Daddy and walked away while he screamed. He remembered. And he would not go to Daddy no matter what we suggested to him. No bribe was going to make this little monkey boy let go of his mommy. He was not having a repeat of the last time.

Have we permanently traumatized him? Is this a foreshadowing of what is to come? He starts full time day care on Monday. Do I need to start praying to the toddler gods for an easy transition or do I just wing it like everything else.

I suppose this is a time will tell situation. Unless something interesting happens this weekend, I'll let you all know Monday how it went.

Discoveries

In case my pictures haven't made it clear, my child appears to be a nudist at heart. He is constantly stripping off clothing. After listening to many of my friends, who have boys, I'm beginning to think this is simply normal boy behavior. They have protruding parts and clothing does not allow them to view said parts therefore all clothing must be removed. This penchant for nudity became very clear on Friday. M was down for his nap, he'd been sleeping for 2 hours, so I decided to go wake him up. I walked in to his room, opened the blinds, turned around, and saw my sweet little boy, bum in the air. Naked as a jaybird, diaper around his ankles, face down, sound asleep with his knees curled up under him which caused the protruding behind.

I ran for the camera and took pictures before he woke up. You never know when those pictures might come in handy. I have visions of me holding hard copies of those pictures, waving them at his future 16 year old self, threatening to show them to the world. Social embarrassment can be very motivating and I intend to have a stash of hugely embarrassing photos.

Words are becoming very important around here. Mainly because we're tired of hearing "MORE" "Uh" and the favorite "COOKIE" which could actually mean water, cracker, or any other kind of sustenance. So in the land of parental wishful thinking, I continue to ask him to use his words. Oh, I know, I live in a dream land and I'm destined to hear the same words, over and over again, with escalating volume each time I get the answer wrong but I keep hoping one day he'll say "milk please" or something similarly specific.

He's actually picking up on words quickly. Which means that he is starting to parrot what we say. We've entered the stage that has terrified me. I'm constantly watching what I say. Except in the dollar store while shopping for his birthday. I wasn't so careful there. We were wandering up the aisle, I found some cute Sesame Street items so I was digging through looking for a specific character. A character that wasn't there. I said "well that sucks" Oops, big boo boo. I heard "Suuucks"? Then I heard " Suckie!" This was my response "That's right, socks, just like the socks on your feet" Could I be a bigger dork? Whatever, dorky mom or not, it worked, he started playing with his boots and his socks. Moment managed and moving on with the knowledge that my baby isn't such a baby and really does listen to what I say.

Two lessons learned by me last week. Watch what I say and put him in lots of layers before nap time.

One hard little head

New game. Sit or stand in the middle of the living room. Throw yourself backwards until you hit the floor, likely with your head, then say Ow! with a big grin. Stand up and do it all over again. You can do this in any room in the house but the favored spots around here seem to be the living room and the kitchen. I don't quite understand the kitchen. It has a linoleum floor and it must hurt. At least the living room floor has a carpet and occasionally he lands on his little couch which gives him a cushion.

I don't pretend to understand the game. I really don't see the fun in it but M seems to love it. Sometimes he'll spin in a circle until he's dizzy and then throw himself to the floor with a big "ow" It's just a variation on the same game. He laughs like a loon over it. Yeah, I still don't get it but I'm pretty sure it's normal. Weird but normal.

Firemen and babies

M discovered the fireman coat that he inherited from his Grandma's house. The odds are pretty good it belonged to his older cousin and was forgotten one day long ago. After finding the coat he would not take it off. He insisted that he had to wear it to bed for nap time. I had to change him with the coat on, he ate dinner with the coat on, and when bath time came.....it wasn't pretty. We had a battle of wills over a coat. Apparently he did not like bath time as much as he liked the coat. He could not understand why he couldn't have both. After all, it is a rain coat and that means he should be able to wear it in water. I eventually won the battle but I had to live with his obvious disappointment over the lack of his coat. He has moved on a bit in the last 2 days but he does like to go back to the coat and play with the buckles. I think the buckles are the most fascinating part of the coat.

His new favorite toy this week is his baby. Last night
we were out shopping and he saw the doll. He yelled loudly at the top of his lungs "Baby!!" while pointing wildly at the baby dolls. He was pretty specific about which one he wanted. Thankfully he chose one that was designed for the bath, is pretty sturdy and it was on sale. What more can a mom ask for. Once we got home and I had baby out of the box he wandered around talking to his baby and putting baby in every seat in the house. Thank heavens for the waterproof part since he was determined that baby was going to have a bath with him. Today he has been dragging his poor baby everywhere. Baby has been sitting in the high chair with him, on his little couch, in daddy's chair and has even played in the ball tent. Once again baby was his bath buddie. I'm hoping this lasts for a while. There is something really wonderful about watching my little boy take care of his baby. It brings out a sweet little side of him I wish I saw more often. Let's face it, at this age most things are frustrating and he tends to spend his days trying to do things he's just not big enough to do which leads to temper tantrums. He's just that age.

So to all the little boys out there who have their baby dolls.... enjoy it while it lasts. I know I will.

Bum Mom

It's time to seriously start the potty training.

M was playing in the dining room, opening the cupboards and hiding his toys which is a normal activity. I could hear him happily chatting to his toys and then it got quiet. I could see him so I wasn't too worried. A few minutes later I heard him saying "mommy" and then I saw him wandering out of the kitchen. Diaper around his ankles. Big grin on his face. Proudly proclaiming "BUM" That's all he wanted to say. "Bum, bum bum bum bum" He was obviously aware that he had made a bit of a mess and just as obviously pleased with himself for pulling his diaper down to show me the mess.

I moved the potty into a corner of the kitchen. After I cleaned him up. I was having visions of him pulling his diaper down and peeing on the living room floor or worse. Tomorrow we are going to watch Elmo's Potty Time. Probably a few jillion times but that's ok if it works. Here's hoping I don't screw this up and I manage to stay consistent. Like everything so far I'm sure we'll be entertained.

Ernie needs a bath

M's favorite toys are his Bert and Ernie Gund dolls. He likes all his Sesame Street Gunds but Bert and Ernie are the clear winners. They are the ones who get carried to bed every night. They are the ones he talks to at nap time and they are the ones dragged around the house by the arms or legs and put on the couch or his chair or wherever he deems appropriate at the moment. Some days, like today, he decides that they need a bath. Since he doesn't have access to the bathtub he substitutes the dogs water dish. It's always interesting to find him dunking Ernie, bottom first, into the dish, giggling away as water drips all over the kitchen floor. It's an entire process which always ends with me wringing out Ernie's bottom end over the sink, trying to get as much water as possible out of him.

What I can't understand is why he insists on putting this particular toy in the dish. He has a perfectly good rubber Ernie toy that's waterproof. Why doesn't the waterproof Ernie want a bath? Why is it always the soak it up like a sponge Ernie who wants a bath. Is this some kind of twisted toddler logic which we, as adults, will never understand? I'm sure he has no idea that he may be damaging his favorite toy. I'm pretty sure that all he sees is the moment and what fun that dripping water is. I think it's kind of like standing in the bath, peeing on his hand (which he does) It's that new sensation or maybe he thinks he's discovered gravity which, lets face it, to his two year old mind would be a whole new concept.

I don't think I'll ever understand his thinking but I do know that when it's quiet and I can't see him....Ernie's probably taking a bath.

King of Drama

M has been given the above title today. He is very dramatic but he really topped himself today.

He likes to play with remotes, phones and the computer mouse. I'm sure this is standard for all toddlers. Today he decided to take Daddy's mouse off the table and try to run with it. When told to put it back, he did, with force. He held his hand up, tightly gripping the mouse, Glenn said "M do not throw it", I said "M, gently" and M threw the mouse at the laptop. Of course he did. He's an almost 2 year old boy. He throws everything. (we are working on it but it's taking time) Glenn grabbed his hand and slapped it (not hard but enough for shock value) with a big firm "No, we do not throw" M threw himself to the ground, covered his eyes and started to cry. Very loudly, occasionally peeking between his fingers. Then he got up, went to the table, grabbed the mouse and repeated the entire thing with the identical results. He did this about 4 times until he finally grabbed a flyer and threw that. We ignored him because it's a flyer and we don't really care about it. (I know we should be consistent but we were a bit tired by then) The second the flyer hit the ground so did M. Eyes covered, wailing away. He did this another 3 times. I think he was waiting for one of us to give his hand a slap. Instead he ended up just crying for no reason on the floor. While we laughed. Probably not the most appropriate or responsible response but it was too funny to ignore.

He did finally give up and go off to play and he left us with the knowledge that we are really in for it with this child. Thank goodness he's got so many hugs and kisses to go around because I think that if he didn't have that lovely sweet side we would have to consider selling him to the gypsy's :-) Well, maybe just lending him to someone until he's made it through the terrible two's. That's allowed isn't it?

Here's hoping that he wakes up from his nap with a little less drama for the remainder of the day. I'm afraid if I laugh too much more he's going to take offense and heaven knows what that would lead him to do.

Shoes

M is trying ever so hard to do things himself. This means a lot of frustration, a lot of tears and a lot of angry "Mommy" yells. I try and let him figure things out on his own until he decides he wants to accept help. Usually when he is asked if he wants help he shakes his head or turns away with a stubborn little noise. He is quite independent and very determined. This also means he is extremely stubborn or maybe tenacious is a nicer way of saying that. Whatever word you use, that boy can dig in his heels until things are just the way he wants them. This applies to everything from his lunch to how he's playing with a toy.

We actually had a stare down today over a toy. I felt it was inappropriate to smash his toy on the coffee table. He felt this was the only way to play with it. I explained where and how he may play with the toy, he stood with the toy hovering over the table waiting to drop it when I wasn't looking. After 5 minutes of this I won simply because he finally tried to bang the toy on the table and I took it away. This led to a flop on the floor, kick his feet, cry like his heart was breaking, temper tantrum. Which I ignored. I figured since he kept checking to see if I was looking that he probably wasn't that heart broken.

After the toy meltdown he moved on to Daddy's shoes. M is quite fascinated with trying to put things on his feet or my feet or any feet he can find. This was evident a few weeks ago when he started trying to put on his socks. He has not successfully done this yet but every time he sees a pair of socks he tries to get them on his feet. Friday he stayed with his Grandma for a couple of hours and apparently he was putting her slippers on and off her feet. This great game has come home and morphed into where can M put Daddy's Croc's. Sometimes they are on his feet, sometimes they are on Daddy's feet. Sometimes his stuffed buddies are in the Croc's. Today it was my turn. I spent a lot of my day baking and as I was standing in the kitchen M came in with one Croc. He proceeded to babble to me until I lifted my foot so he could put it on. Then he left so I took the shoe off. You know what's coming.... he came back. He was very upset with me for taking the shoe off and put it back on my foot. I spent a large part of my afternoon walking around with Glenn's size 13 shoe on my right foot. I was not allowed to have one on each foot as the left shoe was occupied by Cookie Monster. When I sat down on the couch and took the shoe off, he came to em with the left shoe and put it on my left foot. (He took away the right shoe and put his stuffed dog in it) He then came back with another of daddy's shoes, another left foot which was going on my right foot. I was very glad for Glenn's big feet in that moment.

M sat at my feet for a very long time taking the shoes off and putting them back on. Periodically he would take a water break and then come back to my feet. I am amazed at how single minded he can be when he is learning something. I will be interested to see if he tries to wear the shoes himself tomorrow or if he goes back to our feet instead. Who knew shoes could create such magic.