the hard days





i know. just last week i was waxing poetic about the joys of atticus and toddlerhood in general. and i stand by that theory. i'm not backpedaling. but the 80/20 rule is legit. to recap: 80 percent of the time, atticus is a joy. 20 percent of the time he is not. now he is not holy hell that 20 percent. BUT, believe me he has his moments. as we ALL do. as in right now, he is laying on the sidewalk saying "i go to bed!" and pretending to cry because i needed to come into the house and charge my phone. there is really no logic or predictability when it comes to toddler emotions. most days, i'm just betting the odds that i'll  screw up my own morning by pouring milk in the wrong cup. and other days, i come home from work expecting the joyful boy and i'm smacked in the face with unexplained meltdowns, throwing everything, refusing to eat any meals, begging for candy and general disdain for life, nelson and myself. then i just want to lock myself in the bathroom for a few hours with all the reese peanut butter cups and a book and call it a night. 

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