He Makes Me Happy

How is it that an almost 2 year old who is fond of breaking down into hysterical fits can make me happy?  He is a drama queen, and when he is upset (which happens often these days) he will throw himself onto the floor and kick his feet until he realizes he's hurting the heels of his tootsies by banging them on the hard tile.  Then he'll stop the heel banging and carry on with the tantrum.

Wouldn't it be bitchin if we, as adults, could do this?  Think of the stress we could release!  The chili a little burnt, the cornbread didn't rise?  Throw yourself on the floor and pound your fists and kick your feet until you are beet red in the face.  Then, spent, get up, grab the car keys and go fetch some Chinese take-out.

Sounds good to me. 

Somebody step all over your presentation at work?  Fuck 'em!  Whaddya think those big conference tables are for, anyway?  They are for throwing our massive adult bodies on!  C'mon!

So, back to the baby.  In between tantrums, he is demonstrating excellent skills such as buckling himself into his stroller.  Or trying to.  He climbs in by himself, spends a good 20 minutes attempting to accomplish something I have a difficult time doing.  (Have you tried those new baby devices?  I mean, really.)

His parents are taking his tantrums in stride, though his mom retreated to the couch when, in a fit, he ripped open a sealed bag of tortilla chips.  She looked as though she could kill him, and asked, "WHY are you being so AWESOME today?!"  Then she stomped into the living room.  She gave herself a little time out.  She's good.

Remember: there is always bed time.  And he goes down easily.  Then we can have silly adult time, which makes me very happy, too.