My Own Lil' Transformer

Can you believe it? I birthed a real-life transformer. Though d3 has not yet reached his 2nd birthday, he has metamorphosed into this rabid-resembling, tyrant-turned toddler. I think if I look back in some of my earlier posts, I would read how this baby of mine was so calm and carefree. Somehow, somewhere along the way, that has changed. Not that he isn't capable of sweetness but these days, it is few and far between. This morning was pretty much like every other morning lately -



The picture isn't great but I can provide a quick recap. I'm walking him to his classroom - because he's 'so over' the idea of me carrying him - and I offer to carry his jacket for him. One might think that 'offer' is a silly word to use with a child this age because it might imply that one would need to verbally respond. Turns out he's fully capable. Though he may not be able to clearly say, 'No, Mother, I will carry it myself,' his actions say something very close to that. Less in words and more in screaming {and hitting}. His actions made it very clear that he wanted to carry his jacket. Too bad I don't take orders from a toddler. I've become accustomed to this newfound ritual - it was only 6:45am but it certainly wasn't his first of the morning and it won't be his last. I predict he will finally throw in the towel and recognize his defeat around 8pm tonight. I know this because our days are much like the movie 'Groundhog Day.' We start it with crying and we end it with crying. No big surprises. If nothing else, I can thank him for consistency.


Now that I've displayed his naughty behavior and released the stress from my morning round, here are some happier pictures. The first one {as you can tell from the shirt} was taken literally 2 minutes after the one above. That is a positive to this age - he may throw down numerous times in a day but he gets over it so quickly. This picture shows off his shirt more than the first one {probably because, in the first one, he was partially rolling around on the ground, hence the blurry pic} and I find it so appropriate. Because, you know, he IS a big deal.....unfortunately, he knows it, too.....



As I was posting some of these pictures, I found a few more recent ones. He loves the camera and he seems to think my iPhone's sole purpose is to photograph him. Whenever the phone emerges, I hear 'CHEESE.' Bless his widdle heart, he probably wouldn't even recognize the real camera if it bit him in the booty - I'm into efficiency and searching for the camera takes too long. But I always know where my phone is. If I don't, I'm on the verge of hyperventilation - just ask my husband. I'm not proud of it but there are worse things, right?










There. I showed you pictures of my cute little boy. I didn't devote it entirely to his heathen ways.

I will say this - he had better prepare for his days to come. He was born into a tough bunch and he's not scoring brownie points with his older brothers. It used to be that I was only refereeing fights between d1 and d2. These days, I have a hard time determining the perp. Used to be a no-brainer but lately, not so much. d3 seems to find joy in hitting his brothers and the weapons vary - Wii golf club, Nerf sword, remote control, sippy cup, banana - he doesn't discriminate. What is funny is that he knows what to do after the attack. He knows to take off running. Unfortunately, he hasn't quite mastered the art of running. He's in that awkward and uncoordinated stage so he tries to get away but ends up wiping out or running into something. So, as I'm walking him to time out, I'm often chuckling because he just isn't very good at being the bad guy. I'll give him two months {three at most} and he'll have it perfected. After all, he has great mentors and I just know they are anxious to lead him to the dark side. They all certainly seem to enjoy watching Mommy turn red. I assume he'll be no different.


One small confession to my third and final son. Dayne, I hope one day you enjoy my blog. Especially since it may very well double as your scrapbook. So what if your brothers had two 'real' ones - this is 2010 and electronic is 'in.' Besides, I think it's a birth right as the third child to get ripped off and I would hate to cheat you out of that right. Sorry, kid. It's the way it is. At this point in our lives, I'm patting myself on the back if you get your diaper changed every 6 hours. One day I'll make it up to you. I promise. And just remember - you'll always be my favorite baby....