Ikey Bikey Boo is a walking 27 pound ball of attitude these days. Throwing things, hitting, biting his brother’s arm so hard that he still has teeth marks days later, throwing more things, smiling when I tell him no. So I guess that means he’s two right?
He’s the most curious boy in the world I think. I love that about him and at the same time it makes me wanna scream and pull my hair out and throw him in his bed without supper. K not the last part. He just can’t help it
Which really, it’s an enduring quality. But it’s also a pain in the neck.
I keep telling myself “he’s not being naughty he’s being two” which has become my new mantra.
Ugh it’s hard to focus and write now. Silas smacked my face really hard and my nose hurts. He’s so violent lately. Now he’s screaming at me from his room. Ugh.
He’s such a delicious cupcake thought, really. He’s just a go-getter. I STILL maintain if left in the wild he’d turn into some feral child who talks to wolves and eats raw flesh and live till he’s 100. I also maintain that he SHOULD have been born in the caveman years. He’s just…well…he’s a caveman. Mark can testify.
Lately after he hits I’ll tell him he hurt me and right away he says “are you ok mommy?” “kiss it better” and he’ll kiss me. It’s so cute and tender it’s impossible to not forgive him straight away. Stinker.