That is how I would describe the past five days.
Just...ugh.
This kid is driving me up a wall. Sometimes he cries because he's frustrated: the blocks won't stack. The stacking rings don't lock in place. Grover doesn't sit astride the Ducati Diavel.
Other times, he just...cries.
And I have no frickin' clue what the hell is going on. Really. None. It's not that he's hungry, or tired, or even teething. It's not that he hasn't gotten to play or read or whatever. Every concievable need is met, and yet... crying. Total meltdown.
Oh sure. Sometimes he willfully does things he is not supposed to do and he suffers the consequences of such actions, like not being able to play outside. But really, the crying is just...dumb. And annoying when redirecting doesn't work any more.
I've heard about this phase. I've read moms talking about it on forums and in articles on parenting sites, but really guys, being in it is a LOT worse than reading about it. And the advice...does NOT work. Yeah. Pretty sure we're in the lovely toddler wonder week thing.
They should have medication for parents specifically for this time. I mean, besides wine and ibuprofen.
I jest. I know it is temporary. I know it will end. And I know he will be graduating from college when I blink. So I'll cling to the moment of discovery and joy - the dimpled smiles, giggling, counting to 5 for the first time, stacking 8 blocks without them falling, telling understandable stories about toys and activities. I'll hold those in my mind and grit my teeth until he goes to sleep on the rough days.
Yeah.
And drink a beer.
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