Herr Meow has entered his Terrible Twos about seven months early, or maybe it just seems that way because he is alternately the cutest little human being on Earth and the biggest pain in the butt east of the Mississippi, or possibly in the whole continental shelf.
Yes. That includes Mexico and Canada, I believe.
Sometimes he likes to be both at once and I am powerless in the face of so much insouciant cuteness.
At seventeen months and two days, he likes to say "no" altogether too often. He also says "no" and then turns around and smiles a motley-toothed grin and says "bye-bye." As a matter of fact, he loves saying good-bye and, while he can seldom be coaxed to say hello to people, he will gladly wave adieu until his little chubby arm hangs at a charming angle and he looks around to surmise his effect on people.
He also enjoys pursuing things that are off-limits and then throwing mini fits of rage when he doesn’t get his own way –even though he is pretty aware that he will not get his own way.
He can "read" books on cue, such as our current favorite, "Moo, Baa, La La La!" (You have not seen cute until you’ve heard this child "baa" on cue. As for the three singing pigs? Don’t even get me started. I’m trying really hard to stop myself from gushing here.)
He can also drive us all nuts clamoring for the cat or for for "boo-beyyy" (blueberries) or for "baah-ah-ah" (bananas). Or for all at once. Or for none, shaking his head like a tiny emperor, disgusted with his sub-par lackeys when he’s offered things he did NOT ask for.
But just as soon as he’s done exploring the explosiveness of his temper, he turns around and hugs my knees or gives us tons of sweet little kisses. And every kiss is a little explosion of saliva and unbridled love.
Right now he is clapping and doing a happy dance as "American Idol" starts– and he’s digging Phil’s (amazing non-butchering) of "Blaze of Glory." He’s going to town, dancing and walking around and laughing.
These are the moments that make everything –the tears and the loss of patience and the random biting and the dirty diapers and the lack of sleep– yes, everything, way more than worth it.
A Daily Dose of Zen Sarcasm! 