Friday, January 13, 2006

Two months before his fourth birthday...

my son has his his terrible twos. And he's also emulating a 60 year old man...and a hormone driven sixteen year old...somebody give me strength.

Ly Bear has discovered the temper tantrum. I don't know how we've managed to go so long with out him really latching on to the idea, but I've liked it...a LOT. Having a brother who keeps tantrums in his favorite bag of tricks for all kinds of situations, I kind of thought it was the universe giving me balance. Yeah, screw what science says, the universe doesn't like balance. The universe likes chaos. Putting a coat on this child has become an Olympic Event. Prying trains (that can't be taken to preschool) out of his act of the gods. It could be worse. He forgets relatively quickly and he cries big crocodile tears rather than hitting or throwing. Of course sometimes those big tears sometimes hurt as bad as a sippy cup to the noggin...but you know, you don't have to worry as much about your dental work.

We're doing one of these battles about leaving a much prized drawing in the car yesterday when we went to pick up Deveronio. I knew he'd get inside, get distracted and leave it behind. He knew I was the most horrible person on the planet. Anyway. We're struggling to get into the center with him going into a limp weeping puddle every time I tried to take his hand when two little girls ran by him, just a bit older than he. The tears dried up instantly as he sprung to his feet and raced them to the door. He made sure his dimples were showing as he awkwardly wrangled the door open and held it for them. I've seen the girl crazy behavior before, so I was not surprised at that. I was a little surprised by what came out of his mouth.

"On with you now, move along, move along..."
Sir Toppham Hat has trained him well. I just don't think he knows that STH isn't exactly a babe magnet.

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