Terrible Twos

I think Patrick's confused. He's supposed to be about two months behind other kids, not two months ahead. Yet in the last few days, he's acting like the mysterious illness that affects most two-year-olds has hit him already.

Here's an example of what life around our house is like:
Last night we went out and picked up dinner, a nice treat for all three of us. Patrick was more than happy to see he would be eating fries for dinner. When we got home, he threw a tantrum in his chair when it took me a few minutes to get his food on his tray. Then he threw a tantrum when he saw what he would be eating (remember, he has always liked this meal in the past). He threw a tantrum when I wouldn't give him my food--an exact copy of the meal he had on his tray. He threw another tantrum when I offered him my food anyway and it wasn't what he wanted. He threw a tantrum that I wouldn't let him out of his chair when he decided he didn't want to eat his food. He threw a tantrum again when I finally did. He threw a tantrum when I wouldn't let him drink his Sprite--a special drink--when he'd refused dinner. He threw a tantrum when I wouldn't give him my Sprite instead and gave him his water sippy every time he "asked" (which means he grabbed my hand and shoved it in the direction of the Sprite).

He finally quieted down for a few minutes once he figured out he wasn't getting any Sprite. I pulled some yogurt out of the fridge for a bedtime snack and so he wouldn't go to bed without any food in his belly at all. He was perfectly happy and sweet--until the yogurt was gone. Then he threw yet another tantrum because I wouldn't let him play with the spoon and empty yogurt container. At this point, Matt's and my patience hit its limit, and Patrick went down for a slightly early bedtime.

We had peace in the house for about twelve hours until construction traffic in our neighborhood woke him up. As you might have expected, he woke up hungry and was not in the mood to play quietly in his room until I woke up on my own. He wanted to eat, and he wanted to eat NOW. I woke up a few minutes later to loud screams from his room. If they had been screams of pain, I would have leaped out of bed and run in to check on him. But they were screams of anger, deliberately to get my attention and express that he was upset that I was not around to release him from his room the moment he woke up. I refused to get him up while he was screaming, so he stayed in there a little bit longer until I found a long enough break between screams to let him out.

Today has been a bit better so far. He's only thrown one tantrum, when I wouldn't give him my own breakfast. Maybe the full tummy is helping. I hope these tantrums are just a phase and not really the onset of the terrible twos. I don't know how I'll ever stay patient with all this stubbornness for a full year, especially when I'm functioning on very little sleep after Nathan gets here.