The night before last I steamed my kitchen, Christian's high chair and our fireplace. Boy oh boy, was that crazy! After cleaning the soot off of EVERYTHING, I went to bed around 11:30pm. Horrified at the thought that Christian could easily make a mess in a matter of hours, I vowed to feed him his breakfast. Today, however, I decided that he deserved to feed himself. He ate a blueberry waffle, with whipped cream and blueberries. OH GOODNESS.
Now for the not-so-fun part. Christian has adopted a new form of communication: temper tantrums. These are not crying and walking from room to room announcing to the world he is unhappy (the way he used to pitch a fit). No no no...now he throws himself on the floor, flails about like he is possessed, and screams, kicking his feet. If that doesn't get a reaction, he'll stand next to me, grabbing me while he screams and cries. What could possibly set him off this way, you might inquire? If I take away, say, a piece of paper he was eating, he'll tantrum. If I change his diaper, he'll tantrum. If I make him come inside when he won't behave himself outside, he'll tantrum. Good grief, Charlie Brown...terrible two's came early!