Once the "Duce" tantrum ended, he found some crispy onion crackers and already being frustrated, I agreed-- afterall, it wasn't juice, so that was a win win for both of us. I turned on a cartoon for him (I needed to get a cake frosted), and he went to the living room with his bag of crackers. Next thing I know, the bag has been dumped upside down and there are crushed crackers all over my rug. Followed by another pee flood. ON.TOP.Of.THE.CRACKERS. Of which were then stomped until they were mush in my rug.
Are you kidding me, child?!
After cleaning it up and dousing the carpet with my vinegar/alcohol/dish soap concoction, I conceded.
My surrender flag was a'wavin.
We both needed out of the apartment. We have been in all but one day this week due to my terrible cold and unhealthy pollution levels. We loaded up and went to the playground, and then on to the promenade in front of our complex so he could ride one of those electric rides.
We returned home for lunch, of which he requested meat-uh-balls (he says it like an Italiano) and naw-chos. I rounded it out with a side of Greek salad and a sippy of milk. As I was getting his room ready for naptime, I hear an uh oh from the dining room. He had pulled his lid off and poured milk all over the meat-uh balls and naw-chos.
Are you kidding me, child?!
This behavior deemed lunchtime OVER, and in his credit, he did help me clean up. He is a good helper, this kid..but he also knows how to make a catastrophic mess. Anyways, naptime usually goes off without much of a hitch. Occasionally he will talk for a half hour or so, or throw his blanket out and call til someone gets it for him, and once in a blue moon he will refuse a nap.
The moon must be blue today.
For over an hour he refused to nap. Alternating cries of mama with the sounds of a crib being pushed away from the wall, and the sound of tiny feet kicking the ends of his crib (IKEA sundvik cribs have a solid headboard and footboard that make the worst sounds when kids kick them), he went on for an HOUR. Frustrated, I peeked in after letting him carry on for that long only to see his crib in the middle of the room, his rug scrunched up and all of his bedding thrown on the floor. This kid has skills, yo!
I remade his crib, picked him up (after a really deep "keep-your-shit-together-mama" breath) and started holding him like a baby. He's already like half my height, so this wasn't an easy task. I put him up over my shoulder after a few minutes and sang a couple songs to him. As I finished out the last verse of "you are my sunshine", I felt him surrender.
He was lights out within minutes of being rocked.
I stood there in his room, hugging him tightly before putting him in his crib, and my eyes welled up with tears. The realization that this young, independent, spirited little boy who had run me ragged this morning is still just a baby. Often times I feel like I can't wait for the next milestone to be reached, but standing there in his room this afternoon, just giving him love and rocking him made me want time to stand still.
Our naptime snuggle was just the redemption I needed after a morning like today.