God help me, I put my son to bed a half-hour early tonight because he was driving me nuts. Mostly because we only had a short window for a nap this afternoon, and yup, you guessed it, he stood in his crib and sang. And jumped. And shook the crib. And sang some more.
He behaved nicely enough at the late-afternoon playdate that we attended, but then we came home. And Mr. Hyde showed up to relieve Dr. Jekyll.
How can I love him so much, yet get so frustrated by him? How can I marvel at how smart he is (like when he effortlessly puts a 48-piece puzzle together all by himself) and then feel like beating my head up against the wall when he refuses to put it away? Is this still the Terrible Twos, or is this a preview of the Terrible Threes?
Luckily, he is still very cute. And he still loves to hug and kiss me. Hugs and kisses go a long way. Yes, I'm a sucker.
William and his daddy, all dressed up for church on Sunday:
William and his mama, after school today, in a rare uncrazy moment: