So we are only a few weeks away from Jason's birthday, our anniversary, and Reed's birthday. Oh, plus Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's Eve. It's my busy season.
I'm feeling slightly more optimistic because at least I'll be able to buy people some presents, however small.
Reed is experiencing his last throws of toddlerhood, I can tell, because the fits have gotten few and far between but also about 782 times more intense, sudden, and unpredictable.
He actually threw himself onto the floor in Target, plenty of people looking on, because I "wouldn't" let him "pay" for his pirate ship. What ACTUALLY happened was he threw himself into the floor, I stood there cheerfully saying, "Now hop up so you can pay for your shippit!" and he screamed and writhed, totally ignoring me. (He was calling his pirate ship his "shippit". I don't know.) I looked at the cashier, smiled, and stepped over my child who was rolling on the floor of a public place, wiping his face on the floor because he knew that I'd have nightmares about it for weeks- he's a smart little dude, after all. Then my mom and I drug him out into the parking lot, forced him into the car, and sat and let him shriek and cry for about five minutes.
After a few minutes of that, he suddenly and without warning smiled, asked me politely to take his shippit out of the box, and after I handed it to him he giggled and played quietly with it until we got to Cracker Barrel.
This life is so bizarre, so crazy, that sometimes I totally skip writing about some of it because I know that it sounds made up.