Growing Up

Shey has hit the terrible twos with a vengeance and it is throwing me for a loop. I think that with Peyton since he was always somewhat high maintenance, that one just rolled into two without much change of behavior. Shey, on the other hand, was such a good baby. He was quiet and he slept well. My little observer. Not so much anymore. Sunday morning, he woke up about 5 hollering for me. I punched Larry to go get him, but Shey was having none of that. When Larry finally grabbed him and brought him to our bed, he (Shey) was pissed off. Shey did not care that I was already in the bed, all he cared about was that I didn't physically pick him up out of the crib. Oh, the wrath of the quiet one. He wailed on Larry, kicking and hitting and screaming. Oh the screaming at 5 in the morning. Finally, after trying to calm him down for 10 minutes or more, Larry tossed put him off the bed. My little sweet baby walked into his room and wanted back in the crib, and I, the ever following one, put him in it. He laid down for a second, and then popped back up so I could take him out of the crib. Oy Vey. Dear Lord, give me strength.