He’s two much
My youngest darling babyblogger, has officially turned two, and nearly overnight he’s turned bad. On the morning of his birthday, he woke up as his usual sweet, amicable easy-going babyblogger self and then around noon, the time he was born, he became this brand new don’t-screw-with-me temper tantrum toddlerblogger. The changes were immediate: babyblogger would wear shoes. Tdddlerblogger hates them and throws them into the street. I decided to make my life easier by putting him in a pair of proper Velcro sandals that he couldn’t chuck into on coming traffic. But toddlerblogger was having none of it. He hated the shoes so much he started to drag his feet along the pavement as if he was a pirate with two peg legs. As soon as I saw his shoe-shtick, I rolled my eyes and told him to cool it. We were standing in front of an outdoor cafe and I got the feeling people, especially a new mother with a baby in a Snap-n-Go, noticed my tone and turned to watch. Temper-tantrum toddler could sense it too and he “fell” on the ground scratching his chin in full view of the new mother enjoying her sleeping infant, burger and pint of Guinness.
Oooh naughty naught bratty rat!
But now that we were players in a street scene, I had to be the good mother so I softened, bent down, wiped his chin, let him change into his Crocs knowing he still throw them in the street. Our recovery was brief because as soon as we reached the curb, Toddlerblogger refused to hold my hand to cross the street so I had to pick up him (did I mention I was also pushing an empty stroller, walking the dog and carrying his scooter in my other hand?). Because I had to carry him and push the stroller and the dog I ended up zigzagging across and looking very much like a mom who didn’t have anything under control. Watch and learn new mom, watch and learn.
The rest of the afternoon didn’t really get any better and Toddlerblogger was still insisting on doing his barefoot impression of Fred Flinstone and he was still refusing to hold my hand when it was time to cross the street. Inevitably, as we were waiting at a curb he threw his Croc in the middle of the street. Only this time when I rushed over to pick it up, a woman bent down to get it for me and behold, it was the new mom who had watched us at the cafe before. Our eyes met and she nodded at me. Mom: 1. Toddlerblogger: 0.