- We are celebrating Stewart’s Birthday this week. I took The Dictator out to purchase a new weed whacker for a gift but it has been renamed the “Daddy Whacker” for no known reason.
- Also renamed is Daddy. He is now known as “Daddy Mommy” around here. Stewart had a couple weeks off work with the family and The Dictator spent so much time with him doing fun things (like streetcars and fast trains) that I have been tossed aside for the new Mommy in town. Although this one comes with a penis. Not so much fun being demoted by a two year old – seriously folks it is killing my ego. The bright side? I have been taking some long ass showers and I smell fantastic.
- I fear my son is turning into “that kid” you all know the one; he hits things or people at random and acts a little like a bully at the playground. Yeah, that kid. We are working hard to stop the hitting, and now that he understands that hitting is wrong we have seen some reduction in the flailing fists of fury.
- Massive sleep regression. The kid would NOT go to bed at night without being rocked to sleep and he wanted to sleep in our bed all the time. Hell no. Finally we (actually I laid it down, Daddy was a sucker for The Dictator calling out for him at night) laid down the ‘cry it out’ gauntlet, put a lock on the bedroom door and took away naps for a few days so he would start sleeping at night again (hence why there is a heck of a long break between blog posts – I was hella tired). Daddy Mommy started a new updated bedtime routine with The Dictator which stressed less cuddling and more being a big boy and now he is easier to put to bed then ever before. Thank Beezus. and also lso thank the Daddy Mommy! Seriously, if he wasn’t the major breadwinner in this house he would be one hell of a stay at home dad/house wife. I know you are jealous.
- The Deuce is officially a girl. Let the shopping games begin!
- Two year old boys like their ‘woodys’. A lot. My son has taken to doing the Al Bundy frequently – even at the kitchen table. Gah!
Does anyone have a suggestion on how to deal with you sweet little two year old dropping the f-bomb? The larger problem being that he seems to use it in context of a situation. Like when Daddy is pissed about building a play-set and is holding is his anger quite well – yet there is a two year old saying exactly what you really want to say?