Jelly Bean was sick on Friday and a bit hellacious all weekend. Not because he was acting sick, but because he was spastic-Tasmanian-devil-like-hellbeast. Oy. He would be aggressively destroying item X and a parental unit would rush him, put him to the side, and start to repair item X, only to find that in the 12.65 seconds eyes had been taken off of said hellbeast, he had moved on to destroy item Y. And this went on...and on...and on.
I want to blame in on the drug cocktails they had him on, but alas. In the waiting room at the doctor's office before the appointment he was running around and screaming happily like a crazy thing. Then he would yell, "Hide, Mommy! Hide!' and dive under the quasi-sofa, giggling maniacally while I tried to dig him out and tell him to "use his inside voice" through clenched teeth.
This morning he was bouncing in his crib (we are sleeping in the big boy bed off and on.) He holds onto the railing and JUMPS! That boy can get some height, I tell you. He was bouncing and laughing and I smiled at him as I was picking out clothes for the day.
"Jelly Bean, are you happy?"
"NOOO!" (insert afore mentioned maniacal laughter)
"Um, are you sad?"
"YES!" (repeat maniacal laughter)
Ah, motherhood. I just want a nap. That boy makes me feel old. Someone wake me when he is 3?
6 comments:
LOL they are nuts aren't they
LOL - he and O would get along great.
I hope Jelly Bean is all better by now and acting like his usual fun self.
I feel your pain. :)
Misty, darling, it only gets worse at age 3.
He sounds like such a (maniacal) sweetie pie though!
Do NOT wish for 3. When he's three, you'll be longing for the easy days of '2'... trust me on this!
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