The very bad day

Everybody has bad days. Today is becoming a fairly typical bad day for AwesomeCloud and me.

First he cried about his oatmeal for breakfast. So I put the uneaten oatmeal in the fridge, and he asked for yogurt. He cried over his yogurt. I put the uneaten yogurt in the fridge, and he asked for some of my leftover sausage and penne. "No," I told him. "Go play," I told him. So he cried over that.

Then we went outside, after crying over jacket and shoes, and he wanted to rake. So we raked. I'm glad AwesomeCloud likes to rake, even if his idea of raking is to actually watch ME rake. Then I was tired, so I sat on the front stoop with a book and told him to play. More crying.

At this point, it was only 9:00 AM and I'd had enough. So I decided to not become emotionally involved. I went all Zen-like and meditated on the idea that being outside was good for the kiddo's health. I got him to sit next to me and crumple up some dry oak leaves. We made a nice pile of oak leaf bits on the front walk.

Then I got him to eat his oatmeal by pretending I wanted to eat it myself, which wasn't much of a stretch, because it was Trader Joe's Blueberry Oatmeal, which happens to be really good.

Then Cloud wanted to take a walk, in the stroller, which didn't thrill me because I was more tired than he was so why should I have to do all the walking and pushing while he just sits there? Our walk was very, very short, and perhaps a little disappointing to the passenger inside the stroller. When we got home, I flopped on the couch, while AwesomeCloud... cried. Of course.

Then I changed the bedsheets and let him jump in the pile of dirty sheets. He pulled out some Legos and played with them for about 90 seconds, and then when he wanted to go out and I told him to pick the Legos up first, he cried.

His drama over picking things up frustrates me. He enjoys perfectly well the act of putting the toys in the box, but he acts as if it's going to be torture. Typical, I suppose.

So. More crying, then we get it all done, then we go outside.

Where he bursts into tears because I won't find his rake for him. I had sat down to weed around the hostas, and as soon as I stood up, I saw the rake. "It's right there," I said. "On the ground. It's red. Look for something red."

This was followed by a crying jag at least ten minutes long, probably longer, as I told him, "It's right there. No, get your own rake. Go back over there. You're practically standing on it. No, don't turn around. Look down. Look down on the ground. Down, like this. No, it's over there. Go back over there. Look for something red."

FINALLY he found it, and then he sat down beside me and watched me pick weeds.

Then he got an early nap (slightly) but I let him take his book into the crib, so it should be all right. Now I only have to get through this afternoon and evening. (My husband is at Anime Boston with a vendor table, all by himself.)

If I had a huge heaping bowl of ice cream... alas, there are no decadent snacks in the house. I've been making an effort not to buy them. There are Cheezits, but those are not decadent. I have already had a Cheezit and it did nothing for me.