Brat!

Allan Jude is a complete and total brat. He is the world's most determined toddler. You can not distract him like you can his brother. If Allan fixes on a course of action, he will perservere until you give up or he achieves his goal.

This morning Griff had the Singing Maraca (go with it) and Allan wanted it. More than any thing, apparently. More than I realized. I noticed that he was stalking his brother (who had it first) but I wasn't paying a lot of attention. Until Allan started crying miserably. Howling really. As if Griffith had whacked him or something. But he hadn't. Because I was Right. There. Allan was putting on. Trying to get his brother in to trouble so that I would give HIM the maraca. No such luck, pal. Of course, less than 3 minutes later, Griff was on to something else and Allan had the maraca. Brat.

Jay had the boys this morning and took them on their usual outing to the farmer's market while I hauled the flotsam and jetsam from my efforts to their various donation locations. Then he hied off for work, leaving me to get the boys to sleep for their naps. This isn't as onerous as it used to be. Griffith has decided that he likes his afternoon nap. Can't wait for it, actually. You ask him if he is ready for his nap and he will say "ba!" and "night-night!" and head for the nursery. He climbs up in your lap, settles down under the blanket, breathes deep, drinks his milk and settles down for 2 to 4 hours. Unless his Monster Brat of a brother interferes. Which he decided to do. Usually the problem is that Allan wants to play with noisy toys, but I had gathered those up. Mind you, he had 3 million other things to play with. None of which was nearly as interesting as his brother and me. So he comes in to the nursery, crawls over, whacks his brother who is nearly asleep. I readjust to keep him away. After a few exploratory swats, he realizes he can't reach Griff. So he yells. Griff stirs. "JUDE!" he yells. Amen, I second. Hand Allan something quiet. Every time I we are about asleep, Allan manages to find a way to intervene. Fine. I plunk his a** in to the crib with quiet toys. He is not interested. He stands up and shakes his head back and forth, jumps up and down, squawks. All of which causes Griff to laugh like a hyena. Then Allan decides to drop every toy in the crib on to the floor, one by one. Every time he does that, Griff says, Oh, no! Fall down!

Time for Plan B.

Take Griff back out and try to rock Allan to sleep. Not happening. He squirms and yells. Griff, for his part is ominously quiet. I can't stand it and go in search of No. 2 son who is playing with a truck. And who has, clearly, pooped his pants.

Great.

Dump Allan on to the couch. Go for a diaper. Catch Griff who has decided that diaper change time is the time for the 100 yard dash in our house. Catch him, wrestle him in to a new diaper, wipe the sweat from my brow, gather up Allan, sit back down.

Allan can not be soothed. Griff starts pulling all of the laundry out of the armchair and on to the floor, flinging it about wildly. You.Have.To.Stop.

God love his heart, he was finding Allan's Lamby which was at the bottom of the pile. He found it and brought it over as if to say, here, this will help.

I stink at this mother business.

Lamby didn't help. Allan was still being a pill. Fine. Back to the nursery. Back to rocking. Young man, if you are not asleep by 1:15 I am totally giving you Benadryl. 1:13, he drops off to sleep. No kidding. He will push you to the limit.

Griff climbed up in my lap about 15 seconds after I got Big Al down. He was out in 5 minutes. I got him down, read for about 20 minutes and fell asleep myself. 2 Hours later, we all felt human again.

Dad came home and we all had dinner and fun time. Baths, book and time to go to bed. Griff is pretty good about getting in his crib and entertaining himself until he falls asleep. Allan, on the other hand, was quite a pill. Again. He would not go to sleep. He flipped, flopped, squirmed and yelled. Finally, I just put him in his crib to let him sort it out. He didn't like that. Not one little bit. He squawled and stood up and I put him back down. Sat down. Griff got up and jumped up and down, yelling. Put him down. Just in time for Allan to repeat.

After about 10 minutes, though, Allan decided it was too much effort and went to sleep. Griff, without an audience, laid back down and started his evening ritual which includes a lot of flipping and flopping and reciting everything he knows how to say:

No, no, no, Daddy.
No, no, no, Momma.
NO, JUDE! (heh.heh.heh.)
Two, three, two, three. (I don't know what happened to one.)
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, ad nauseum....

More to report, but it is nearly eleven and I want to read some before I sleep.