Liam has been a bit of a nightmare since we got back from Virginia.
He’s basically had a contrary response to every request that’s made of him. He had his first potty training accident in weeks (although we’re not quite sure if he was trying to tell us he needed to go or not since Matt and I were in our bedroom in an epic — and completely commonplace — search for a shirt that would fit over my belly and wouldn’t make me look like a vagabond). He’s spent more time in time-out for things like hitting than he has in the last 3 months combined. The only two outings I dared to take involved complete meltdowns over things like the deli not having cheese samples available and Liam’s outfit preferences for a friend’s baby.
The list goes on and on and on ad infinitum (and ad nauseam, frankly).
From what I can tell, the only positive developments he’s had since we left town are that his language skills are even better than when we left and his hair has grown (Matt really liked the short cut, I wasn’t as big of a fan…). Here’s an example of those language skills that took place in the entrance to the Publix:
Shannon:Â [Searching desperately for the grocery list that took me half an hour to put together before we left for the store.]
Liam:Â Whatcha lookin’ for, Mama?
Shannon:Â I can’t find my grocery list, and Mama has a hard time remembering anything anymore without a list.
Liam:Â The grocery list is on the floor in the living room.
Shannon: What? Are you sure?
Liam: Yes, Mama. I saw it on the floor before we got in the van.
Shannon:Â Awesome.
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We arrived home to find the grocery list right where Liam claimed it was, in the middle of the living room floor. I’m not making any bets on how it came to be there, because although I can’t blame him for something I didn’t actually see him do, I know that of all the places I could possibly have put the list and the middle of the living room floor isn’t on the list, so to speak.