The Burrito Fiasco

We are blessed to have a little slice of entropy at our house.  Entropy is the force of nature that abhors order and will pull things back into a general state of chaos.  In our house this force of nature is a vivacious two-year old, although his older brother and sister definitely qualify.  We all have our moments.

This morning our toddler, Baby D, woke up an hour early and proceeded to drag me around the house by my pinkie so he could turn all the lights on.  I would much rather have had a nice quiet morning cuddle where we could enjoy each other without anyone else making demands on me, but no, it had to be the lights.  I wouldn’t have minded as much but more lights on equals more likelihood of waking the rest of the flock and I’ll do anything to prevent that.

Including nuking frozen burritos at 7 AM.  After he was satisfied with the lights, Baby D     started screaming and yanking at the freezer.  When this kid gets hungry he gets a little nutso. To quiet him I opened it and he grabbed the bag of frozen burritos, ran to the couch and sat clutching them in his arms like they were a long lost favorite stuffed animal.

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Posing with the burritos, note the cheesy smile

You see, this kid only talks when he absolutely has to and that makes figuring out his needs tough.  When he’s tired or angry or frustrated, which is all the time, he won’t speak but instead will grunt and point and drag you around by whatever finger he can get his little hands on.  Usually it’s the pinkies because they are easier to grab and get your attention faster. They hurt more when twisted.

The whole burrito fiasco is only the tip of the iceberg in a series of bizarre and typical two-year old behavior that humbles me daily. Yesterday we had a run in with smelly markers and his hands are still green. I wish it were easier and not always this ongoing game of charades trying to figure him out. Sometimes I feel like a human metal detector with him riding on my hip and pointing towards what he is trying to find. Most of the time I can figure it out, and if I’m lucky it’s something he can actually play with and not scissors or hoards of candy.

If I’m not lucky there’s the screaming and whining and hitting and throwing things and the decent into chaos which two-year olds are famous for.  Some days, I swear he trying to see just how far down the rabbit hole of crazy I can go. I haven’t found the bottom yet, and not for want of trying.

Maybe today will be day!

 

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