22 Months

Wyatt,

Good Lord Child! You had your first, bona fide, screaming, stamping, Broadway worthy, hissy fit today. You did not want to get out of the car. You wanted to go to the post office. Problem was, love, that we had already been there. I wrangled you out of your car seat praying that I could get you to the house before the neighbors called DSS. Once inside, you threw your little body on the floor, wailing and waving your arms. Then you stood up, ran over to your train table and threw all of the toys on the floor. When I would try to pick you up to comfort you, you would make your body limp so it was like picking up a single strand of angel hair pasta with chopsticks. I tried to distract you with ice pops and Pup and pretty much anything I could think of. Eventually, I wrapped you in my biggest bear hug with all three of your blankets and you quieted then fell asleep in about 2 minutes. Poor thing. It was very tragic. At one point I had to smile at the insanity of it all.

This is the second time this week that you have refused to get out of the car. Earlier this week, we went to a party at Brianne and Elias's new house. You had a blast but then I had to switch gears to go to a not-so-surprise engagement party for Michael and Johanna. (Congrats!!) I began prepping you, telling you we were going to another party. Well, we stopped home to get Gammy and you really wanted to GO TO ANOTHER PARTY!!! The huge crocodile tears rolling down your cheeks when I shut off the car engine. Needless to say, we got to Michael's an hour early. Either I am pushing you way past your over-tired limit or you are a very social little guy and need to be around your adoring public all the time. Beyond these two isolated incidents you have been amazing, as usual. Maybe you are just trying not to spoil me. Or maybe, just maybe, you are testing your limits. Seeing how far you need to push me before I cave to give you what you want. I will not even mention that I am a huge push over, especially for you.

We have been working on counting. Basically I have been sticking to one, two, three. Which you always count as one, three, two. I'll take it. Then, the other day, we were counting the wheels on your train and you bust out with "One, three, two, five, six, eight!" Granted, not quite right but SOO close. You retain so much more then I think you do. I guess I have to steamroll ahead and start counting to 10. Our class at the Y has got you interested in songs too. You started singing "Raining, pouring, raining, pouring" which I think was suppose to be "Its raining. Its pouring. The old man is snoring." You also sing "Clean up time, clean up time." when you put your toys away. You don't get the melody right but you raise your voice to this sing-song falsetto that is perhaps the sweetest sound I have ever heard. You have a talent that we have just begun to see.

I go through spurts of feeling motivated to get you out of my bed. I have been in one recently, after a night when I thought I had a black eye because you kicked me in the face. But then you always redeem yourself and I go back to not caring. Last night, I was trying to get you to sleep, you were all cuddled in my arms, and I feel your little finger start tracing circles around my eyelids. You start whispering "Momma's sleeping. Night, night, Momma. Shhhh, Momma's sleeping." then you poke my nose and start saying "wake up, Momma, wake up!" I open my eyes and you start laughing inches from my face with your huge blue eyes looking right into mine. Why would I ever want to give that up?

I love you everyday. (Even during a hissy fit!)

Momma