dervish, of the whirling and screaming variety

To say that things have been challenging the past few days at casa t'pon would be to employ a certain level of understatement that I find, quite frankly, to be passe.  To say that my once darling son has turned into a head-spinning, pea-soup spitting minion of Beelzebub himself...  well, that would be to employ a refreshing element of truth rarely seen in this day and age.

I am not quite sure what is going on with him. In the past three days I have, on several occasions, thought that duct taping him in a large refrigerator box with some graham crackers and a gallon of milk might not be such a bad idea to get just a moments peace.

I am not trying to imply that he has always been a perfect child, so joyful that sunshine was spilling out of his ass, but he was certainly pleasant...  generally fun to be around and a good sport when things occasionally did not go his way. Even on his worst day, we could count on certain events that would bring this kid around -- a walk to the park, a nice long romp in the tub, and of course a hearty meal.  Alas, it appears that the days of simple distraction have gone the way of the penny candy.

These days, there is the screaming, the stomping, the extreme arching of the back and most recently the troubling and sickening thud produced by a small child banging their head against the floor or wall. I am told that this is mostly likely a normal reflection of a toddler's frustration with a desire to communicate and a vocabulary that fails him.  But let me tell you something, he is making his point QUITE effectively. 

And when he is not doing his best to summon all of the demons of hell to his side, he is flat out moving at a speed that is inhuman. I suspect that he might be physically incapable of rest.  At any given moment he is running, climbing, getting into anything and everything that is casually set aside for even a second. Yesterday, I caught him trying to climb up the shelves of the linen closet to reach a bottle of lotion that I had taken away from him only moments earlier and three days ago, I came into the living room to find him standing on the coffee table.  Two days ago, he figured out the child proof casing for the surge protector.  What the FAAAAHCK?  Why did we pay for all of this ugly-ass child proofing crap if he was just going to figure out how the FAAAAHCK to use it. 

Oh, and have I mentioned that he has stopped eating anything that isn't a cheese slice or yo baby?  So, in addition to being in a constant state of frayed nerves and preparedness for the eventual trip to the emergency room, I am also nursing a pretty intense concern that he might in some way be damaged by too much calcium and too little of anything else.

Upon mentioning this concern, my mother pointed out that perhaps, like any other normal craving, this was his body's way of of doing a little preventative care...  strong bones are less likely to break.

Well, his bones might be safe from breaking, but that is precious little consolation to my spirit.

Comments

[Wood]

You have my sympathy. Once again, our daughter is way easier re: the running, jumping and overall non-stop-ness. However, I hear you on the back-arching, and the wailing. I fucking hate the back-arching. It makes me want to grind my teeth to a bitter powder.

I think it only gets worse from here.

[Karen]

Ahhhh, I hear you on the inhuman speed thing. My T. is 22 mos., and when he doesn't want to hear "no," he just grabs what he's after and zip! he's gone. Seriously, who thought an almost 2 y.o. could be faster than a grown woman? Just wait until you find him on your kitchen table. We had to hide all our kitchen chairs in the garage for a while. My mother offered the welcome advice that we should just tell him "no." Hah.

As for the dairy fetish, at least it's got protein.

[Sarah]

I feel your pain. My kids both went through this. Now neither of them will eat cheese at all. I have to assume that this is also a phase or I will lose what sanity I have left.

I recommend drinking.

[MetroDad]

We're at the same stage also with the Peanut (18 months old.) The kid is a walking lawsuit. I can't even count the number of times that I've caught her at the very last second, right before she was about to hit the ground after trying to climb the bookcase or her high chair (for the millionth time.) And the food thing? Killing me!

I second the drinking idea.

[julia]

To quote my pediatrician just yesterday, "The 15- to 18-month age range is notoriously difficult."

Um. Yeah.

[stefanierj]

Oh, honey, here too. Of course, I ust figured out that D has ALL FOUR molars coming in AT THE SAME TIME. ((think that's FUNNY, do you, my beloved deity?? Of course, I guess it beats the snot out of going through this 4. separate. times.)) It's been BEASTLY.

The only thing that ever helps the tantrums is the cave-man speak, a la Harvey Karp. But like I said over at BMC's--I suspect this is only because he feels embarassed that a grown woman is making such an ass of herself on his behalf, so he should straighten up.

[Luckydad]

Hilarious post. Where did you learn to write so well?

I have a wonderful friend who has reared three kids into something like adulthood. She likes to refer to the fast as lightening, minion of Beelzebub stages as "behaving in age appropriate ways." Urrrrrrrrrrr.

But it's true.

When the bugster seemed to have tilted off the axis, I've found that a change of venue is a big help. New mall, new park, new something ... That, and one-on-one time with whichever parent has been the most absent/distracted (usually me) sometimes helps the toddler hit the reset button.

A couple of suggestions, anyway ... and less likely to arouse the suspicions of the authorities than a refridgerator box and a roll of duct tape.

[Chicago Mama Spot]

I keep think my daughter's cheese phase will peter out. She's 20 months and still going strong. First thing this morning, she said "Cheese, Please." At least she's polite. Oh wait, she's not. She just thinks Cheese, Please is funny. The rest of the time, she is acting like she might be your son's long, lost twin. A nice glass of wine every night has been taking the edge off. That and lots of playdates with like-minded kids so they can all wear each other out.

[Jessica A Kirkwood]

Our son is now 22 months and though this has eased up - we called him "President of the U.S. Dairy Board" for a long while in the 18 month range because milk, cheese, yogurt were all he would eat. (Seemed to make him only capable of producing strange little deer-like poo which was also of concern.) Now we call him the snake because one day he'll eat the whole mongoose and then nothing for days. (Except gallons and gallons of milk, of course!)

[stefanierj]

I just reread this because it's so brill that I had to share with Daddymatic and I forgot last time to say what the FAAAAHCK is with the head-banging?? D thinks it's FUNNY--the louder, the more hilarious. Mary P of daycaredaze fame told me to ignore it, but I'm so worried he'll bust his little egg wide open that I'm about ready to make him wear a crash helmet like some epileptic kid in an 80s-era afterschool special.

[rachiepoo]

my uncle ed was a headbanger, until he decided to headbang on the lino, one day. he stopped. and he's totally fine, now. i miss you people.