The sweetness. . . .

Today I did what cooks will inevitably do at some point in time. I burned myself. This isn't the first time it's happened (and most likely won't be the last) but this does win the prize for being the dumbest. I was making dirty rice and in trying to follow child safety regulations, had all the handles turned towards the back of the stove. When I picked up the sauce pan, I neglected to note that it had been subjected to the heat of the other burner that was on at the time. So needless to say I had the handle impression burned into the palm of my hand. The burn isn't bad by any stretch of the imagination, but it did sting a bit.

So after I had invented other curse words to say that would not come back to haunt me by way of a 2 year old child, I went to sit down on the couch while Mike got some ice for my hand. The ice packs that I got were in the form of Lightining McQueen and Nemo. Brady saw these ice packs and came running over, but Mike told him that they were for me because Mommy had an owie. Brady become very concerned at this point, wanted to see my "owie" and then asked, "I kiss you" at which point he proceeded to kiss my hand. Afterwards he took it upon himself to hold the ice pack against my palm and asked repeatedly, "Mommy ok?". Of course, I assured him that I was. . .

He got the memo. . .

Over the past few weeks, Brady has become the quintessential 2 year old. This was to be expected, but as we had enjoyed a peaceful few months I was hoping that we would somehow skip the whole 2 year old experience and sail along as I would smugly watch all the other 2 year olds throwing tantrums around me.

So much for that.

Now for the most part he is still a pleasant happy child. But he has discovered his stubborn streak (again no idea where that came from) and when he digs his heels in he is firmly stuck.

Example of a typical morning at our house as of late:

Mommy: "Do you want to wear your Elmo shirt?"
Brady: "NO!"
Mommy: "Do you want to wear your bike shirt?"
Brady: "NO! No, Elmo Shirt".

As I am pulling it over his head. . .
Brady: "No, No No Mommy, bicycle shirt. No pants, no pants, no pants!!" (Accompanied by some theatrical screaming).

Getting out the door:
Mommy: "Ok, time to go take a ride in Mommy's car"
Brady: "NO ride in mommy's car" (Stubbornly refusing to move, which means I have to carry him, a computer bag, a purse and whatever supplies he will need in daycare that day).
On the way to the car (me carrying him):
Brady (occasionally kicking, screaming, and thrashing): "NO NO NO NO I walk I walk I walk!"
When I put him down:
"NO. . .Mommy carry Mommy carry"

My mantra these days. . .

Pick your battles, pick your battles, pick your battles. . . .