Saturday, March 4

Either it's personality disorder or...

Toddlers are bi-polar.

That is the only rational explanation I've been able to come up with for their astounding ability to go from heartwrenching sobs to fits of giggles in less than a nanosecond. Bi-polar, yep. And because they don't allow us to put two foot high humans on lithium yet, parents have to endure this behavior that threatens to put any halfway sane mommy or daddy right into a rubber room. I've witnessed it, in grocery stores especially. What is it about grocery stores that turn a kid into the exorcist baby?

So, I've been fearfully waiting for my laid back, zen-like little man to enter this stage of human development. Since, by my grocery store observations, we have not yet eradicated the wailers through the process of evolution.

I think it happened, it's really hard to be sure though. Last Thursday night the ususal evening routine began of Jude being carried by JudesDaddy into the den through the garage door. I, walking in to welcome with open arms my menfolk returning from a hard day out in the corporate and nursery school fields, was greeted with a beaming grin! Yay, just the thing I look forward to at the end of my own stressful day (Wait, did I say end? I lost my mind there for a second. I meant to say, phase three of my stressful day. It would be hours before my day could be called complete thanks to this new role called Jude Mommyhood). Just as JudesDaddy set the him down on the floor and I knelt down with open arms, the nanosecond thing happened.

The huge grin morphed into a look that can only be descibed as poingnantly tragic (when dealing with toddlers there are not enough superlatives in the english language to cover the drama they can dish out). Quick as a wink he bent forward and flopped onto his head in what was a pretty good execution of a yoga Downward Facing Dog position.

I stood up. We were both looking down at him in complete and utter confusion. "What IS he doing?", I asked JudesDaddy.

"I'm not sure, meditating?"

"Well, is he crying? I don't hear anything".

He bent over and craned his neck, trying to get a look at his face. "I don't think so. "Hey, Little Man...what's wrong? You OK down there? Whattsamatter?". He stood back up, looked at me and shrugged. "Whadda we do?"

"I dunno, I don't remember reading anything in the toddler books about this. I guess we just stand here, maybe, wait him out".

Befuddled, we stood, we waited, we looked from him to each other. In about 45 seconds he stood up, gave me a look of the "I'm not happy about this situation" variety and came begrudgingly into my arms. I suspect all the blood was rushing to his head or he may have stayed down there.

I remain clueless as to what the obviously unacceptable circumstances were. But since my overloaded mommybrain can no longer handle any processing that is not absolutely essential...I'll not worry about it. Maybe it will come to me in my what serves these days as sleep.

No comments: