I was so excited for Memorial Day weekend this past Friday since extra time to spend with Dylan translates to time well spent. Unfortunately, the feeling was not mutual. Instead of frolicking through perfect weather and capturing pin-worthy photos of a sweet looking toddler having the time of his life, I’ve been dealing with Mr. Misery and his plethora of wtf antics.
Let’s cut the dramatics and jump straight into the thick of reality: Dylan is terrible…and probably misunderstood. His lovey-dovey happy-go-lucky sweetheart ways have dissipated overnight. The same sudden way his random flow of affections began is the same way it ended. Only now, he’s even more evil than before. Prior to being the sweetest little berry on the vine, his anger was evident through head bangs, hitting, all that crap. But at least there were tricks to talking him off the ledge and at least he’d eat.
After one serious cut to my face (which will surely scar), I knew there was no hope and no chance for Memorial Day fun. But we kept trying anyway. At one point we found ourselves in a giant field of freedom for Dylan to run around in, only for him to scream his head off as he staggered miserably. “Come here!” I called to him, knowing that getting too close would trigger a whole new set of wails. But apparently even talking to him was a “no-no,” as he looked over and began hitting the air as if it were me. Oh- so now I’m getting hypothetically smacked too.
And meals? Forget about it. Sure, the kid needs to eat and he’s
definitely probably hungry, but suddenly everything is disgusting. If we somehow managed to get food in his mouth, he chewed it twice before callously spiting it out. Or in the alternative, chuck it at your my face. Yes, specifically my face. Apparently I’m an easy target for Dylan’s abuse. I can’t tell you how many times Dylan ran up to me just so he could hit me, scream, and then flee from the scene. I also can’t tell you how many times I wondered if I could afford a nanny.
*UPDATE: Well ya'll figured it out, Dylan's emerging teeth are the cause of his tyrant ways. He's so clever! Instead of teething in daycare or at my mom's house, he held off on his Chucky the psycho doll attitude until the weekend. Isn't he the best?