Monday, August 1, 2011

Toddler schizophrenia

Johnny has found his voice.

I don't know if it is turning two, cutting two year molars, growing an inch a week, a demonic possession, or a combination of all of the above, but the kid has learned to pitch a fit.

"Johnny, do you want a blueberry muffin?" (The kind you loved yesterday and ate six of?) "WAHHHHANONONONONONONNYNONNYWAAHHHHHHHHHH" (*hiding eyes, throwing body on ground*) "How about a hot dog? Cheese? Apple? ICE CREAM? CUPCAKE?" "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"Johnny, would you like to watch Gabba?" "YA! YEP!"

"Johnny, would you like to get dressed?" "NONONO WAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"Johnny, do you want to watch Jack?" "YES! YEP!"

"Johnny, want to color at your new table?" "NO!!! NO NO NO NO NO!" (*sits down and proceeds to give Buzz Lightyear coloring page a fabulous new colorful look only after throwin the body on the floor once for good measure.)

"Johnny, want to go swimming?" "YEP."

"Johnny, want to get off the step and into the actual pool?" "!NO!NO!NO!NO!" (*swims out to the deep end on his own and gives us the finger.*)

And then, it's night time. Need I say more? Thankfully, the pool makes him so tired he doesn't have any "No's" left in him by 7:30. And then there's morning.

This morning, at 6:15 after my shower I thought I'd sneak in and gank his baby lotion since I misplaced my body lotion again and I didn't figure anyone wanted to see my naked business running down to the pool to check if I left it on the table.

So I cracked the door open ever-so-slowly, and there was my golden haired son, standing in the crib, grinning from ear to ear. "HI!" And he reaches up and says "EAT?"

That'll get me through the day.


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