Twos are hard
Just in time for Cheese Puff to hit them. And hit them, he has. Wow. Usually, he's super sweet and loving and polite. He's my best thanker. He thanks everyone. It's incredibly sweet.
Then, especially when he's tired, he starts screaming. Last week, during our weekly trip to Sam's, all hell broke loose. Cheese Puff says he wants a hot dog, but he really doesn't. He wants Baby Plum's pizza. Baby Plum is usually nice enough to share (notice, I didn't mention any terrible twos with Baby Plum.) We decided instead of our usual order, Bob would get a slice of supreme pizza and I would get a hot dog. Cheese Puff could eat the two pieces of my hot dog that he usually eats, and then have some of Bob's pizza. Cheese Puff loves supreme pizza, so this wasn't a problem. Except that it was.
He didn't want the hot dog cut. But he did. But he didn't. He wanted to cut it himself. But he didn't. But he did. He didn't want pizza. But he did. He didn't want his brothers to eat pizza. He didn't want his daddy's pizza. He wanted hot dog. But he didn't. He didn't want anything to drink. But he did. At least he did when his brothers had it. Picture this whole scenario with him screaming. the. whole. time. Some old ladies seated next to us glared.
It was downhill from there. Shopping for our groceries was a mess.
A similar scenario happened at our grocery store two days later. We ended up feeding him blueberries right out of the container. I know.
Still. When not screaming his head off, he's sweet, silly, and super-loving. We just have to get past this stage (and hope it doesn't last 5 years!)
Also, Baby Plum has decided to try his hand at the terrible twos as well. The fits don't suit him, but he's trying it out anyway. His fits usually stem from something Little Elvis has said or done.