So some days with toddlers are just down right comical, no?
Mine is especially good at knowing the absolute best time to make a fool of himself. I’m not going to pretend here…sometimes when he screams mid-store, I walk several feet away and pretend to read labels. Mm-hmmm. He is LOUD. And “reasoning” is not a thing with him. Whispering in his ear used to work but uhhh- nah. Boy is outside his pretty little mind. And don’t hate me for being the mom that lets him scream..families gotta eat…and when he gets too out of control ( which is rare) I calmly leave the store. We just GET OUT. Plus I’m smart enough to only go when it’s not busy…except that one time I forgot it was Superbowl Sunday.
Some of you have seen this and others see him in his many sweet moments and think he’d just never ever do that. NEVER.
Well yesterday took the cake. I told him we were going to the dr. to see why he had a sudden rash on his face and this is what he heard…”you are getting a shot. it’s probably going to make you cry more and hurt more than any other thing on planet earth so better start screaming….right now.” (I’m assuming that’s what he heard and thank you to Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood for teaching him about shots yesterday) What transpired was comical. And ridiculous. I bear hugged the screamer to get off his clothes and then twisted us both up in a knot to try and get that god-forsaken gown with alll the strings on his tiny but surprisingly strong body. And then I calmly threw that gown on the table.
Now I know that at our Dr. you can hear every scream…so the 5 full minutes of this must have been something and I half expected someone to burst through the door and see what was happening. At one point I told him he needed to to stop screaming. His sweet reply in an alarmingly loud voice was, “I DO WANT TO SCREAM! IT IS TIME TO SCREAM! RAWW! RAWW! RAWWWWWWWWWW!” Oh my gracious son. GET.A.GRIP. I wish I could type out the volume of those “raww’s”. They are his loudest scream. And still not a soul seemed to mind.
And then I scooped up the precious little child and held him…as he screamed and then…wait for it….he HEAD BUTTED ME. This really happened. And as he began to throw that tiny, forceful head back to do it again, I swiftly threw my arm around him and put him in a head lock (gently, mind you. just enough to stop the force of his head on mine). I sat straight faced with my screaming son in a “head lock” and THAT is the moment the doctor walked in. That moment. He honest to God acted like he’d seen this a million times…”not happy to be at the doctor are ya?” he says with a smile and proceeds. I have to just love that reaction. Not even phased..And as quickly as it all began he was done and happy go lucky again. Pheww.
Some days I am convinced that to become a bonified adult someday, tiny little two year olds have to be slightly “mental” first…like some sort of initiation. Bless them.
This is just our real life that I thought I would share amidst the cute pictures. I will probably never forget the day I put my kid in a head lock.