Baby Blase

So, I woke up this morning determined to commit a blogging sin – to go back in and edit what I had written. I was feeling guilty for being so negative about H. I assumed that nobody would have checked the blog that late at night so, I would be safe. Apparently not… thankfully.

Nicole, Kara, Mom, Rockzee and Maggie (always for a good laugh) – THANK YOU for your comments. I really needed that! And forgot how amazing our friends new and old are. I promise to never hide from sharing our experiences again, no matter how embarrassing they may be. The thing about this terrible-twos stuff is – I was totally ready for the tantrums. I had seen Kara navigate that with Owen with such confident ease, that I felt equipped to deal. I had never, however, been hit by a child. Or bitten on purpose. Or had a chunk of my hair pulled out and then had said child laugh about it to my face. I was so shocked when it happened – uh yeah – that all happened at one time. That I couldn’t even formulate the idea of a timeout in my brokenhearted-brain. However, since turning to the internet and finding the hoards of other help-my-18-month-old-is-violent parents out there and hearing reading the comments from last night, I feel better. There is safety -er- comfort in numbers.

So, yes, the toddler independence movement. Certainly what we are going through. Last night Marc was putting H to bed, reading stories in the rocking chair as we always do – H sitting on dad and me kneeling down beside with my head on H’s shoulder. Last week H wouldn’t let me leave the room – he’d hug and kiss me over and over and over and not let go trying to get me to stay before Marc would rock him a bit more then put him in his crib. But, last night. We weren’t halfway through the first book and H looked at me, gently pushed me away and said “bye-bye”.

Listening: Avett Brothers (Murdered In The City video – if you haven’t seen this, do it now – this gives me hope that they do get sweet again)