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| Remember this sweet little boy...where did he go? |
As we got ready for music class this morning I sat Christian on my lap to put his shoes on. Oh I mean I sat Christian on my lap to torture him...because that is how he reacted. He screamed. He yelled. He cried. He kicked me really hard. I did get those shoes on, finally, but he layed on the floor and screamed for a least a minute or two before he gave up and came to find me in the kitchen, where I was contemplating darting out the back door and hiding from him, for like, ever.
Fit one.
After I grabbed our bag and snacks I took Christian out to the car. As soon as he saw it he waved and said, "bye!"
Nice, I thought. He's in a better mood. How could I ever doubt my cute little guy?
Oh silly Nicole. One day I'll learn.
Christian loses it as soon as I put him in his carseat. He twists, he pulls away, he arches his back (that's the worst). We stuggle in the driveway for a minute or two (this kid is Strong!) before he gives up, sits down and WAILS like I'm beating him. Nice--the neighbors love that. I'll be sure to leave a note for DFax...
"be right back, off to torture my child by driving him to music class in his ridiculously safe expensive Britax carseat" Signed Horrible Mother....
Fit Two.
We head to music class. Fun times. I have the audacity to insist Christian get back in the carseat so I can drive him to McDonalds with his buddy Kylin for food and play place. How dare I? I'm starting to wonder if it'd be worth it to just strap him in the front seat and deal with the consequences? Hummm...just kidding.
Repeat of above carseat drama.
Fit Three.
On the way home Christian throws his sippy cup against the door and it gets stuck between his carseat and that door. I'm only driving 60 miles an hour down the highway and even my long arms can't reach it, but that doesn't change the fact that the way Christian sees it, I'm intentionally keeping him from consuming juice.
Fit Four is thrown. It's not even one in the afternoon.
From one-thirty to four he sleeps. Oh I can't even contain the excitement. I need this time to lay quietly on the couch and enjoy the silence. Or wash clothes, mop the kitchen floor and go thru the mail. :) Either way there was no fitting throwing.
Little Christian is growing up so much. I know that this fit throwing is just his way of asserting his independence. I know it, but I hate it. I really really hate it. :)
Everyone comes to this stage...we all make it out of it...right? :)
Off to bed...
Nicole
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