You spell Andrew like this: A-n-x-i-e-t-y

I think the boogie man has come in the night and taken away our sweet, mellow, low-key little boy and replaced him with the one we have now-- the clingy, crying, needy, high strung version. And I want the old model back. I think it's a combo of Stranger Anxiety, Attachment, and entering the Terrible Twos. He only likes to be held, pretty much at all times, and when you put him down, he cries and cries and clings to your pant legs, rendering you unable to walk away without knocking him down and then you do, and he throws himself to the floor, crying like it's the end of the world. Repeat this scenario what seems like 50 times, and there you have my day. Actually, it's not complete without several diaper changes, all of which are poopy, and require two people, because he fights this battle like a pro, squirming and twisting to get away. And also eating. Eating is another battle, because he is learning to talk and sign but a lot of signs look the same and so he may look like he is signing "milk" but what he really wants is "washcloth." And he insists upon feeding himself, which inevitably makes a gigantic mess, and sometimes breaks even the plastic bowls we have (had). He used to be pretty open to eating anything but is getting pickier and so we have a lot of food being dropped over the edge of the high chair. Oh my goodness, I just want him to be happy, but I think it's going to get worse before it gets better. Which is okay. It's all a part of growing up I guess. For both of us.

It's times like this I want to (and do) give Andrew a big hug and say, "Dude, I love you, but you're driving me crazy!" And I wonder, if he could talk, if he would say the same thing. :)