Gosh, its been a while since I posted anything. I have a slew of excuses but none really worth taking my precious "Toddler is napping finally time!" to write. I am spending this week as single Mom and the first 2 hours did not go well. The previously dreadfully ill child woke up extremely cranked up. His fever is offically gone after 5.5 days and his nose does not run nearly as much. He however, even after nearly 12 hours of sleep, decided that massive amounts of crying and demanding were in order. He wants me to hold him - standing up - for hours on end. Preferably as we walk in circles through the house although in front of the TV is fine. We had "discussions" about how Mommy can not possibily spend the day holding all 25 pounds of boy and that boy must either a) let me sit and hold him b) play on the floor/computer with me or c) figure out how to move around on his own. After 2 hours of this debate - which included two time-outs in the crib that were either more about calming mommy down or calming the toddler down depending on who's telling the story - I just lost it. I broke down in a horomonal mess of tears. Frustrated by my child's inability to understand that holding him up for too long means a backache and shaulder pain. I sat in a chair with him on my lap and balled as badly as he did.

You know what? Nervous breakdowns work. My formerly teary eyed toddler looked at me - a hysterical mess - and laughed. "Silly mommy." he said and he laughed.

"Its not funny!" I said.

"Is funny" he told me.

Whatever. I decided not to continue fighting with a 21 month old about what is and is not humor. Of course moments later the "Mommy up, carry you" (which is his way of saying stand up now and carry me somewhere) demands began again in earnest. I thought for a moment about locating the number for the airline currently transporting my hubby to London and demanding that they turn around and deliver him to my door immediately. Instead I stood up - for a moment tricking crank monster into thinking he got his way. I plopped him on the seat by himself and grabbed his shoes from the basket next to the chair. He screamed, grabbed the one shoe I had rested on the chair next to him and threw it. The dog barked to go out - I, frustrated at the three of us, yelled the dog to go away and just wait. I picked up the shoe and placed it out of reach. Put the other on the wriggling foot.

"Outsigh?" sniffed the monster child

"yes, we can go outside now if you just calm down."

"Calm down now!" he sniffed. "No cry. No carry. Re-axe."

"Yes, relax. Just relax." I sighed and silently prayed that he would.

"Outsigh play. Dig?" he asked.

"Yes, yes we can dig." Then crossing my fingers I said "Just hold on a sec. wait here and watch Stanley while I get my shoes on and go potty."

"Mommy potty then outsigh dig." he said in return.

I peed as fast as I could. Tied my own shoes up silently offering up any bribe that I could in the form of prayer that this day would get better. Outside we finally went...and my moodswinging child became the happy, playful, even willing to use his own two feet toddler that I thought I had actually been living with once upon a time. He ran over to this "larger than him" styrofoam plane his father bought him the other day.

"Daddy fly plane! Vroom! Whoosh! Bye bye daddy! Over sea." he said hurriedly. We've been telling him that Daddy is going away for a little while on a plane. We have shown him on his globe where we live and where daddy is going. Apparently at least the words if not the concept sunk in. "Daddy fly plane now." he said again.

And I thought to myself "yes, damn him."

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