Y'all. It has been a day. Wilder was in a funk from the moment he woke up this morning. Ever since he turned one he is much more sensitive and dramatic. But today was the day of all days. On this day he made it his mission to perfect the fine art of the fake cry and the temper tantrum. Anytime I set him on the floor -- meltdown. Anytime I took more than two or three steps away from him -- meltdown. Anytime I told him no -- meltdown. Anytime the dogs brushed up against him -- meltdown. I could go on but I really don't want to relive it all again. Suffice it to say that it was a long day.
Everyone always talks about the "Terrible Two's" and I've heard from those who would know that it's actually more like the "Terrible Three's" but is it possible that the phase could be more accurately termed the "Terrible Ones through Three's"? Someone say no. Someone assure me that today's willfulness and limit-testing was just a bad mood. I should have another year before I have to deal with temper tantrums, right?
Is that crickets I hear?
Well, I'm going to choose to believe that today was a fluke and hope that tomorrow my sweet, easy-going baby will be back. I mean, yesterday he was as sweet as could be...
Don't get me wrong, he was a little sweet today too (he's naturally sweet as sugar so he just can't help it, you know), but he was pretty salty for the most part. Like "the cap fell off the salt shaker mid-shake" salty. For the record, I have a new respect for parents of two- and three-year-olds. I may or may not have driven us around "looking at Christmas lights" for an hour tonight just to give myself a break from walking on eggshells. Wilder's one redeeming quality: He's just so darn cute...
Doing some work on the scooter
At the zoo's Christmas festivities last night
An elf trampoline show