My child is two months and seventeen days from being a 2 year old.
If that doesn't sum up this entire post, you'll have to birth a child and then raise it to this point to understand.
He's at that age.
He's not the sweet kid I used to have 100% of the time.
It's not that he traded with someone else exactly, as I'd like to assume in hopes that my sweet little boy is still out there somewhere, looking for me.
Nope. It's just a phase.
He will grow out of it.
That being said...
I'd like to illistrate a comparison, if I may.
My dear son used to wake up happy every single morning.
The second he opened his eyes, he was smiling.
It takes me an extra ten minutes to get out of the door, and I've learned to put a diaper and a full set of clothes on a toddler who is interested in doing other things-i.e. digging through the toy box and sleeping.
So there's an adjustment.
It's all an adjustment.
Luckily, about the last hour he's awake, he remembers that I am his sweet momma who doesn't hurt myself or others when he's going through his little tantrums. He cuddles with me then.
But he still tries to shut me in closets when he's not cuddling with me.
Is this a toddler thing? Or...Does he think I'm a lesbian? Did he learn that at daycare?
Since I'm not with his daddy, I'm a lesbian? Do you think one of the other kids told him that? I bet it was that Cason kid. He's trouble.
Whatever the reason, last night, my dear sweet little boy decided I belonged in the closet.
We were at my parent's house, and they have this sort of laundry closet type-a-deal. I was in there, folding our clothes, as mommas do.
Aiden has always liked to play with the doors to this closet, and more recently likes to shut them.
So there I was, in the closet, and there he was, closing the doors.
I decided last minute to let him shut me in there.
I'm a watch-and-see kinda gal, I reckon.
So, after several attepts, my dear, sweet, perfect little boy completely shut me in the laundry closet.
He then began to cry.
I began to chuckle.
Then, he threw himself on the ground, bawling.
He positioned himself in such a way that he was exactly in the middle of the two doors that would allow me to exit the closet.
He cried harder.
I then began to fear that he was hurt somehow, as he does not normally cry like this.
I tried to get out.
I could not.
I yelled for PaPaw.
Which was tough, as my voice was muffled, coming through the crack of a door, and trying to project over the sounds of a screaming toddler.
I did not panic...I kept trying.
Somehow, PaPaw heard me, and came to the rescue.
He was just about hysterical, closing his momma in the closet.
And I couldn't stop laughing.
My kid will either be extremely sensitive, or will have a wicked awesome sense of humor.
I hope it's the latter.