This blog is dedictated to our son, Zander.

Monday, February 19, 2007

He grows and grows

I could tell you how he keeps getting taller and can climb into our bed without a step stool.

I could tell you how he taught us HIS word for the pacifier - muckah.

I could tell you how he quickly learned thank you and you're welcome and uses them appropriately, generously.

He can still pack away an entire banana in less than three minutes. And then there's his mad love for trains. And the green blanket he's becoming attached to. How he can go for two or three meals in a row and hardly eat a thing just because he's got better things to do and we've not served him cookies or candies. How he still goes to playgroups and runs circles around the other (mostly younger) kids.

But what is really significant about 21 months? The tantrums have begun. We didn't know what the word tantrum really meant before, oh, Wednesday last week. We were at Rider's Hobby Shop and Zander was playing with the Thomas the Train display (how we love all stores that have these displays). He got bored and wandered away just as we were getting ready to leave so Matt scooped him up and walked out of the store.


You would have thought we had lopped off a body part. It took the two us probably five minutes to strap down the writhing, red-faced changling into the carseat. How he screamed and cried, and was completely inconsolable. We're not particularly indulgent of this behavior but he's still getting something from it because now, if he doesn't get what he wants, he goes from zero to flipped out like flicking a switch.

There have been several minor incidents but I got another spectacular display at Ikea on Sunday. Matt was so lucky he went to fighter practice instead. My mom, sister, niece and I had breakfast before shopping and Zander decided he was going to eat his fruit bowl standing on a chair - no high chair or bib - OR ELSE. I called his bluff and thence was subjected to a horrific crying fit during which he forgot why he was mad and threw up from force of his ire. THEN we went shopping and he was an evil child the whole time. He was zonked out by the time we got home - nothing unusual there - and I waved goodbye to my companions, locked the door, and crawled upstairs to fall into bed and take a nap myself. I was so tired.

I hear that the terrible threes are worse. I need a lay down just thinking about it.