What To Do About Nothing.

My brain has officially halted all production today. A large SCREECH was heard around the world this morning as my brain function ceased and illness ensued. I wish I had something wonderful to tell you, like I’m not sick and its been a fabulous day. Unfortunately Josiah’s been throwing tantrums about everything today. In fact, I made a list:

1. He didn’t want to be changed when he woke up.
2. He wanted to sit on my lap while he ate.
3. He didn’t want to sit on my lap while he ate.
4. He wanted more milk, no he wanted more applesauce.
5. He wanted to drag the entry rug across the house.
6. He wanted whatever Emma had.
7. She wouldn’t give it to him or took it away, I can’t remember.
8. He wanted to go upstairs to take a bath.
9. He wanted me to hold him every waking moment.
10.He didn’t want his pancakes broken into bite sized pieces.
11.He didn’t want to get down from the table.
12. He got mad at his walking duck for reasons I still can’t figure out.
13. He didn’t want to go upstairs.
14. He didn’t want the calculator to play with while I changed him.
15. He wanted a different book for naptime.

16. He wanted the blanket in a different spot.

He’s sleeping now, Praise the Lord! His words are slow coming so this is probably one of the sources of his angst.
Something that has been working a little bit is telling him I can’t hear him when he’s fussing but if he can stop crying and tell me what’s wrong we can try to fix it. Then I tell him he has to stop crying before I count to three so we can figure it out. Once he stops then its a really long guessing game (makes me wish he knew more sign language). All of this requires large amounts of patience and persistence neither of which are in any kind of supply today. Emma has been surprisingly sweet today considering she’s not feeling good either, so that’s really nice.

Tonight I sleep. Tomorrow I cook.

I had to include the sequential pics of Josiah obsessing over the chair that broken or has an “ouch” as they both say. I especially like the bum shot. Emma obsesses equally about it, but wasn’t at the time I had the camera out. I hear about it at least 50 times a day. Daddy will fix it, I say, hoping and praying he will this weekend. No pressure, Eddy, but they’re driving me bananas about it.

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