It has finally happened. My sweet, beautiful son has been possessed by an alien. A screaming, tantrum-throwing, pissed off alien.
Case 1: We are in Mexico. We take Mason back to ride on the train again. We get on the bus (which he loves) and he rides on the train (which he loves even more). Then it's dinner time, so we go to a restaurant where he proceeds to throw the HUGEST fit I've ever seen. Seriously, we are talking a rolling on the floor, crying, inconsolable tantrum. Todd and I are now THOSE parents with THAT kid at the restaurant. Needless to say, we took dinner to go and took a cab back to the resort where we put Mason straight to bed.
A lot of Mason's attitude in Mexico I attribute to being so exhausted the entire time we were there. But now we're home and have had a week to catch up, right?
Case 2: Monday afternoon, Mason wakes up happy as can be from his nap. He wants juice, so we go to the kitchen to get some. Something (still not sure what) sets the kid off and he just LOSES it! We're talking screaming and crying for AN ENTIRE HOUR!!! I finally put him back in his bed, where he quickly calmed down and recovered. By the end of this episode, I was crying as well.
He's two. And we have officially reached the terrible twos. Lord, give me strength.
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