Today was a bad day for Hatchling and I. After a weekend of near perfect behavior, even sans napping, I should have seen it coming. Stupid me, I assumed he was over the terrible two's. Yes, wishful thinking, I know.
While out and about today, Hatchling opened up all of the P.O. boxes that had keys in the doors at the post office, threw himself on the floor screaming and wriggled in my arms screaming while I tried to get the key for our new mailbox (they are the cool, locking kind). Then we went to Wal-Mart, where Hatchling was pretty good until we got to the produce section and he started throwing all of our groceries out of the cart and onto the floor.
At home, I tempted him with a delicious mango (which he has always loved) for lunch. When he said "NO!" and puffed his cheeks out with air like a blowfish (his newest sign of displeasure), I lied and told him it was french fries, and that this is what french fries look like when you make them at home. He was more than happy to attack the mango after my fib, and he loved it. Of course, after it was in his mouth and had garnered his approval, I told him it was a mango. "Mmmm," said he, "ma-go good!". Little freak.
Later, at the Wal-Mart associates store (L works as a relief pharmacist once in a while, so we get the discount card and we get in at the associates store), Hatchling begged to be held. You attachment parenting parents may think I'm a horrible mother, but I am simply not strong enough to haul around a wriggling 35 lb toddler all of the time. Since I wouldn't hold him, Hatchling decided to (again, with puffed out cheeks) hit mommy, kick mommy in the face (albeit gently, still a kick) while she stooped to look at something, and scream bloody murder about something or other.
When we left the store, I told him "Bad Hatchling. Hatchling hurt Mommy. Mommy is sad." while I strapped him into his seat. As we drove to our next adventure, Hatchling observed the traffic around us. Suddenly, he began yelling "Hello truck! Hatchling bad!".... "Hello car! Mommy sad!"... "Mommy sad and Hatchling bad!" Who could possibly stay mad at that child?
Our final stop of the day (the chiropractor... because of holding the wriggling, 35 lb toddler...) included two time outs, a yell that echoed through time, and one very tired Mommy. Here's hoping my perfect son is back tomorrow....