I need to start off this post by saying that my son has been really good today. Really good. Like, pleasant... smiling....even happy. That needs to be said because for most of last week
- he wasn't.
He's started throwing things. If he's mad, he's going to chuck whatever is in his hands. If he doesn't have anything in his hands, he's going to go find something and throw it. I've started making him pick these things up. If he doesn't want to pick them up of his own free will, he gets to play puppet. I drag his flailing body to my desired location, forced his hands to pick up the thrown item and then drag his body to wherever he needs to go to put that item away. It's not as much fun as it sounds, though I'm sure watching it is hilarious. Note to self: video this chaos sometime.
Welcome to my Sunday.I was making stew. Hot, bubbling, boiling, melt your face off stew. That's where JJ decided to throw a fit over being forced to pick up the Hot Wheels cars he had thrown.
Oops - I forgot to mention that JJ hates being made to pick up the objects he sends airborne. His face says it all, really.
Don't worry, he finally calmed down and had some crackers.
But of course, just a couple bites taken from each one.
Where are the rest of the crackers, you ask? Well, some ended up being (repeatedly and intentionally) run over near the television.
And the others got marched on over near the refrigerator.
After I mentally prepared myself for the battle ahead (and believe me, there was a battle) I stopped the stomping of the crackers. Sometimes, I just need a minute to compose myself before tackling my two-year-old. (Figuratively, of course.) Even if that minute has to come while food is being smashed onto the ground. Eh, at least we have a dog.