Life with a two and a half year old is the weirdest thing I have ever experienced. Sometimes I think that I may be bipolar, but in all actuality,
it’s just Jansen that is hugging the line of severe bipolar disorder.
One second we are nuzzling noses. The next moment we are running down the hallway in capes pretending to be Superman. Five seconds later, it’s all tears and hysteria because Rookie ate the green beans that Jansen had been refusing for the past 3 hours. For serious, y’all.
This is my life.
Last night, Jansen said that all he wanted for dinner was a banana. Actually, he said that all he wanted for dinner was a “prize,” (which is what we call fruit snacks around here) but he hadn’t worn me down enough yesterday
to make me crazy enough to agree to that. So I gave him several options and he chose a banana. He ate a good portion of it and then remembered the prize he was promised. “All done. I don’t like bananas.” I smelled that stinky lie but he didn’t back down. Mama won that battle though, and the little man never got his prize.
I found two acorns in my dryer last night. In fact, it scared the peewadoodle out of me because they rolled a bit and I thought they were roaches.
Jansen has learned his full name: Jansen Bridges Hurst. The problem is that sometimes he thinks that most people also have that middle and last name. Sometimes he thinks that he is the only one.
So a conversation may go like this:
Jansen: This cracker is for Jansen Bridges Hurst.
Me: Oh! Lucky you!
J: And this cracker is for Mommy Bridges Hurst. And no crackers for Rookie Bridges Hurst.
Or the conversation may go like this:
Jansen: Mommy! Put on my cape! You wear my blanket, cape is for Jansen Bridges Hurst.
Me: I can’t wear your Superman cape? It’s not for Mommy Bridges Hurst?
Jansen: Mommy! Mommy not Bridges Hurst! Only JANSEN Bridges Hurst.
It all gets very confusing since Stephen and his dad also have that middle and last name. I don’t really expect Jansen to understand that at this point, but it’s all pretty hilarious.
We took a little train ride around the mall a couple weeks ago and at one point we passed on of those big blue photo booths. He pointed at it and, thanks to my sister, he yelled, “Look! The Doctor!”
Life is fun with a toddler. He makes me laugh, he has the best conversations, he is the world’s best snuggler, but gracious, he tests my patience! If I have to tell him not to kick me while I’m trying to wipe his hiney one more time, I may snap. I actually heard myself say, “Okay fine. You don’t want your diaper changed. Okay. I’ll just take you to the bathroom and put you on the toilet. Then we can come back in here and put on some big boy underwear and you will never wear another diaper again. How does that sound? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?”
Lord knows I love that little boy. He’s my heart.