The past two days have been “I am baby, hear me roar” kinds of days around here.
E has mightily shown himself.
We had some business we had to take care of out-of-town yesterday, and while we were there, we decided to eat at Olive Garden since we had a gift card from Christmas that was still unused.
We were seated, and E started to color with the crayons they gave him.
Somehow, at restaurants, we always manage to get crayon colors like gray and yellow that, in a dimly lit restaurant, no matter how hard the poor guy colors, just don’t seem to show up on the paper. So he got frustrated.
What better to do with a crayon that has upset you than to eat it?
When is a better time to eat a crayon than when the waitress is trying to ask Mommy what she wants to eat?
Waitress: “You really have to watch them, they can reach things faster than you think.”
Me: “Yeah, for sure. You are right”
Thanks, Waitress. I appreciate the tip. Seriously though, she was right.
So, we cleaned the crayon mouth out and started on some salad. I was giving E some bites with my fork- which at first was working just fine. Until he realized that there was another fork on the table. He had to have THAT fork.
I gave him THAT fork. Then he wanted both forks.
When I didn’t give him both forks, he tried to do the back arch move- it’s his specialty these days. But I held on firmly, because we don’t allow him to do that. So, since he couldn’t flail on me, he decided to fling lettuce all over my jeans.
When I went to tell him not to do that, I accidentally spewed tomato out of my mouth- which landed IN my scarf.
It was the climax of a long day of attempting to bend that little will into submission.
Well, today was a little better for Mommy, but I think the poor little fellow may have gotten what was coming to him.
-fell and got a bloody nose and lip
-pulled a heavy wooden chair on top of himself, knocking himself down onto hard tile
-And tonight I told him, as he pointed to the GAP “G” on my sweatshirt that “G” stands for Gorilla, Giraffe & Gnome… That ought to mess him up pretty badly 🙂
Joking of course. My intention is never to mess my child up. I love the little booger. It’s love that compels me not to give in to every whim. It’s love that gives me the strength to kiss his cheeks after saying “No” number 1,327 of the day. I love him.
Even when he tries to eat straws. At Olive Garden. Oy… 🙂