Monday, September 20, 2010

A glimpse of the next 12 months to come?

What the eff. Sticky Baby is throwing tantrums. Ok, so the kid is teething like a mofo, but I'm wondering if he's only using that as a cover for being a cheeky little bugger. The tantrums are coming thick and fast, reminiscent of my contractions a mere 12 months ago. He is also accessorizing said tantrums with a combination of the following:

Guttural screeching and grunting - so pleasant to the ears
Red blotchy face - could be measles, but I think not
Angry, demonic eyes - yes, I use the word demonic to describe my child at times. Bite me.

Tantrum, Sticky Baby style

How do I know they're genuine tantrums? Because when faced with a distraction (or a handful of cheerios) he can switch the tanty off as fast as Lady Gaga can bring out a new #1 single. What a little weasel.

The other way I know it's a tantrum? He's doing the classic laying-belly-down-on-the-floor-with-head-arched-back move. So dramatic. "And the Oscar goes to....Sticky Baby". Can't wait for him to bust one of those out in the middle of the shopping centre. Sweet Jesus give me strength.

My question is, how and where do babies learn this shiz? It's not like he's seen me hollering face-down on the floor when The Hills ended. Wait...Ok, bad example.

I'm not quite sure how I'm meant to handle this new toddler development. Can I go somewhere tropical for a few weeks and hope that upon my return he has a full head of teeth and thinks chucking darkies are so last season? Sign me up.

Today has been a tough one. We were invited to a kick-ass Mother's Group, complete with Tupperware demonstration, BBQ chicken lunch, noodle salad, coffee, tea and sweets galore. The girls and the babies were great. The Hostess, spectacular. Sticky Baby? He was in destructo-mode. He trampled on every single play mat, leaving a trail of squashed banana muffin in his wake. He spilled somebody's can of lemonade all over the wooden floor. He drank out of each baby's sippy cup. He stuck his finger in my potato salad and then drew on one of the Tupperware order forms. I don't think I sat down the whole time. I was on damage control, the noodle salad agonisingly calling my name. Delicious noodles, I will eat you one day, uninterrupted, in peace. I promise.

Tonight? Not much better. The war against savory food continues. Since we left France last week, Sticky Baby is refusing to eat anything but fruit, raisin toast or homemade banana muffins. Where has my mini-gourmet gone, who would eat olives by the handfuls, chickpeas by the dozens, sweet-potato puree by the cupful? Lord knows, but he ain't living under this roof! This creature? He is picky, and fussy and favours finger food over anything off a spoon. Friggin' annoying Limiting, to say the very least.

Ahhh...the trials and tribulations, right?

2 comments:

michaela said...

I don't want to sound like THAT mother, but seriously? Anabelle does this and I'm glad someone else's kid is doing it too because I was starting to feel like my kid was satan.

Although I secretly think my mum is teaching her these things as some kind of sick pay back for being such a brat kid.

Sister F said...

And these are the downsides of having a younger sister...I've waited 21 months (Jude's age) to be able to lick my wounds with you. Yep....that post of yours dear sis about sums up my last 21 mths. But rest assured it gets sooooo much easier when they start equating tantrums with smacks and time out and removing their beloved blanky in Jude's case. Boys are tough and feel comforted by the fact that your mum's group description of mayhem resembles every mother's group we've had for the past few years. Everyone understands. Love, sleep and strength to u.....and a smack...and a sloppy kiss to Rembo (I think he really suits his moniker now). BTW, if he's teething that explains his temporary going off certain foods phew!

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