No thanks, I'll take the asparagus...

This morning Owen discovered a bag of marshmallows in the baking cupboard that just happens to be down low enough for him to get into. He brings the bag to me in the bathroom and because he's done this I know he wants some. (I'm amazed at the mother/child communication system!) These are the BIG ones so I take one out and show him that he needs to take bites not just cram the whole thing into his mouth like he would if it were a smaller one. I also tell him this so we are clear that I am showing him something he should do. He proceeds to eat the marshmallow and gesture to me that he would like another please (grunts and grabs). So I give him another one. This also keeps him occupied while I change his diaper and his clothes. During marshmallow #4 we are in the kitchen and he starts to have a little fit. (This is probably fit #10 for the day and it was only 10:30am, which is probably why I gave in to the marshmallows in the first place!) He wants to put the marshmallow on top of the stove. I presume he's finished with it and try to just take it from him to throw away which only perpetuates the fit. IT NEEDS TO BE ON THE STOVE! (Which is what Owen would say if he could put all those words together! I so wish he could put those words together!) So I put the marshmallow on the stove and he stops the fit. Owen moves to the fridge. I presume he wants milk so I ask him if he'd like some milk to which he replies the standard "no". Which is frequently the answer given even if he does in fact want something! He proceeds to "shop" in the fridge. Checking things out, looking around, seeing what's there. He decides on a container of leftover asparagus and pulls it off the shelf. He peers inside to see what it is. Shakes it. Looks at it again and then goes to the table. So I ask him if he wants to eat the asparagus and he nods yes. I'm still skeptical of this but I lift him into his chair and open the container and he proceeds to eat the cold asparagus. Yes, my kid gave up a marshmallow in favor of asparagus. He sits happily eating the asparagus until he decides he's done. At the same time he's deciding he's done I am calling Morgan at work to ask him something. Morgan answering the phone also coincides with Owen throwing the asparagus that he's not going to eat on the floor as I'm yelling "stop!" "STOP THROWING THAT!" So I have to tell Morgan to hold on while I pluck the little asparagus thrower out of the chair and check that he's clean enough to leave the room. And I get to pick up the discarded asparagus!

And this is how it goes. Life with a toddler. The word toddler invokes the idea of a slowly toddling child. This is not an accurate description of a toddler. At least not my toddler. He does toddle a bit but it is anything but slow. Despite the CP and the weakness on his right side Owen is NOT slow. He's fast. Very fast. And somedays I am not. I think the toddler stage should be changed to the "hell on wheels" stage because destruction and chaos will rein wherever there is a toddler. I'm lucky he's not much of a climber!

Now I hear him waking up from his nap and when I go in he will start chantting "side" side!" "SIDE!" The poor kid was cooped up in the house yesterday while it rained. So we must go outside today and fling some sand. And play in the tent. Which is another story... No wonder Little Debbie's are my best friend.