Worm is the devil’s spawn.
I am now convinced that Worm was not conceived in Hawaii. I believe we entered a twilight zone on the plane ride home from Hawaii. While in this zone the devil boarded the plane, impregnated me, and then erased everyone’s memory.
I’m not joking.
I can no longer accomplish anything in a timely (or even uninjured) manner. He has entered the “tiny control freak” stage of toddler-hood. When Huck was in this phase he cried a lot. That’s it. Cried. Some extra hugs, a few firm yet reassuring words and he was good to go.
Worm. Freaks. The. Fuck. Out. Over. Everything.
Here’s a run down of the more memorable freak outs from the past few weeks:
Leaving the Park to go to Chick-Fil-A: He was hungry and thirsty and had clearly indicated he would like to have “Chick” and “Lem-Nade”. I am not sure what set him off, maybe because I carried him instead of letting him walk across the blistering parking lot? He shrieked his way to the car and then did a backbend in his car seat that would have impressed Madonna’s yoga instructor. It took nearly ten minutes to get him securely buckled. I did not raise my voice even one time. I did, however, bite the inside of my lip so hard that I have canker sores in two places.
Sunscreen : Worm :: Holy Water : Devil
Leaving Best Buy: The candy machines set him off. He was all cool with leaving until I said no to the candy machines. He was so mad that he actually kicked me in the head (repeatedly) while I buckled him in. I did yell this time. Can you hold your shit together while someone kicks you about the face and head? If you answered ‘yes’, you just won yourself a toddler.
Bath time: Clearly there is hydrochloric acid in our bath water.
The end of bath time: Seriously? You just screamed your head off throughout this entire bath and now you’re pissed because it’s over? You’re killing me here.
Crackers: We’re out of all forms of crackers. Worm climbed up on the kitchen counter, got down the phonebook, looked up the number for SCAN and said “don’t make me call them, lady.” Okay, so that one is an exaggeration, but give him six more months. He WAS irate for about half an hour over the crackers.
Wal-Mart: screamed NOOOO NOOOO NOOOO from the check-out to the car. A lady actually followed me to my car and watched me buckle him in. I thought she was making sure I didn’t beat him once I got him in the car. Instead she helped me put the groceries in the back and then gave me a hug. Huggers generally creep me out, but I was too weak to resist.
These are just the ones I have the energy to write about. He melts down about 6 times a day. He is awake about 10 hours/day. I’m too tired to even do the math. It’s a butt-load of tantrums, how’s that for mathematical precision?