Future Thespian

Oh, hey, so how was Mother’s Day? We’re just gonna sorta pretend it never happened, over here.

I have a hard time knowing how to write about Xander’s….shall we say “challenging” moments. Partially because, yes, obviously I love him and even the bad days are nothing but magic and lightness and wafts of baby-head-smell blah blah blah LYING CAKES (except for the loving part, sheesh), but on the other hand, some days just suck and he’s a little turd and I want to be able to say so without 1) feeling guilty about it and 2) hearing about how just wait until he’s 2 3 4 15 whatever age will make me feel like an idiot for complaining now.

Saturday. Oh, Saturday was lovely. It was sunny and warm and we went to a festival and let Xander free a few balloons (nah-noo!) into the sky and eat french fries and pick flowers (fo-fo!) to his heart’s content, then we slipped home for a nap, and then dashed off to a birthday BBQ in the country (yes, even parts of Vermont are classified as “the country.” WHO KNEW?) with cupcakes and more nah-noos.

 

 

I guess we just over did it and Sunday is when we had to (start) paying for it.  It began by him waking before six, loudly, and insisting that I tend to him. Then the inevitable food throwing nightmare over breakfast, a tantrum when he ran out of berries, a fistful of fur from the dog’s back – just because. JS and I foolishly thought that getting out of the house might help. OH HO HO HO, FOOLS. We went to one of our favorite places, an outdoor museum, that was reopening for the season and Xander melted down at Every. Single. Thing. Riding the carousel. Getting off the carousel. Decorating a birdhouse. Not decorating a birdhouse. Being picked up. Being put down. Being asked if he wanted a cookie.

I think we tallied the day up with JS getting two slaps to the face and a kick to the stomach, and me getting a PUNCH to the face and a few attempted head butts.

All before lunch.

It was funny, in a way, because we were THOSE parents. The ones staring bewilderedly, half laughing, at their writhing-on-the-ground-while-making-nonhuman-noises child, while everyone around us was walking hand in hand as adorable families in new spring dresses and pressed khakis.

In another way, I sort of wished I had my old single apartment to go back to, before JS and I were together, so I could watch a TiVo marathon of Veronica Mars and LOST without interruption except for when I paused it to refill my wine glass.

Anyway, we’re getting back to normal, more or less. Still more tantrum prone than a week or two ago, but having a semi regular routine really helps Xander keep his shit together at least a little bit. As much as a 22 month old can. (Spoiler alert: NOT MUCH.)

However the weekend went, though, I did manage to snap some good pictures of him between the meltdowns. Sorry for the Facebook redundancy with the pictures.