Murray woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Everything caused a meltdown. Silly things, like the fact that he wanted to watch Pooh Bear and Curious George at the same time. Or not wanting to wear pants to daycare. Or the fact that he wanted to wear his "Hockey Gopher" (insert huge wail) for the third day in a row (which reminds me, we need to buy stock in "Hockey Gopher" shirts because that's all he wants to wear). Craig and I were baffled. Our normally chipper morning guy was suddenly acting like someone took his birthday away. I was discussing possible reasons for this behavior with a co-worker, Bouge. He looked at me and simply replied, "Two-year-olds are people too. Just because they're small doesn't mean they can't have bad days". This, from a man who never seems to stop working, never complains, and cradles a newborn with the comfort and ease of a veteran OB nurse (he's a very sweet man, but he probably wouldn't admit it). How true! Why didn't I think of that? Every now and then I have a morning when I want to cry if anyone looks at me wrong or if the coffee isn't brewed on time, or my routine gets a little bit out of whack or for simply no reason at all. Why shouldn't Murray be entitled to those feelings too? Sometimes I think I get so caught up in trying to raise a polite, well-behaved, caring child that I forget that he too, is human.
Speaking of being two-years-old, Murray caught on to trike-riding. We've been practicing all spring, but Sunday was the day when everything clicked. It's hilarious to watch, especially if he gets on an incline. In that case, he needs a good push and he's off again. Another "first" to put on the books.