Fickle Pickle

Maybe it’s just the life of a near two year old (I don’t recall), but little Z sure seems to be a fickle fellow some days. The past few mornings as his mom tried to dress him he devolved into a fit of screaming terror, only to eventually give in entirely and not say or do a thing, as if nothing had ever happened. He and I went for a walk yesterday and trying to get him into the backpack/carrier (thanks Becky & Chris!) he started screaming and crying, but once we started walking he settled back down and enjoyed the ride. On the way back, a block or so from the house, he desperately wanted out/down, so I extracted him and let him roam. He walked about five steps and wanted to be carried. Uh, no. The next ten minutes was a battle of the wills, with me trying to trick/coerce/interest him in walking while he tried to scream and cry and eat enough gravel to convince me to carry him.

My favorite example though was the other night. His nails were getting too long AND he needed to have the snot sucked out of his nose: this is a job for evil Dad! I held him down while squirting a little saline into his nostrils, sucking boogers out, and then before the crying abated attacked his finger nails (gently, but he would claim otherwise). After that was all said and done I tried to hand him over to his mom for comforting, thinking that I was on his list of people to avoid for a while. Nope. In Faith’s arms he screamed bloody murder, reaching out desperately for me to save him.

Speaking of near two year old: he turned 22 months two days ago. Also, belated Happy Birthday to Zane’s FAVORITE cousin Dana!