There are just some days when my little angel is anything but. Last night V’s body was somehow taken over by a force larger than himself – a force so powerful that all he was able to do was to cry and whine and cry and whine. Non stop. And the damn thing happened without warning.

Dinner time went smoothly. Because he so desperately wanted a piece of candy that had been given to him earlier in the day by a friend, he quietly and without incident ate all of his dinner. And then his piece of candy. We read books, colored, did some puzzles and watched a little television – the last one at his request.

That’s about when this force showed up. It was bath time, but V wanted no part of it. For the first time ever I had to physically carry him upstairs for his bath. He cried throughout the entire bath: “I want my T.V.! I want my T.V.!” As a result, the bath was cut short at which point he started crying and screaming “I want my bath! I want my bath!”.

He cried still as I put on his pj’s – and cried when I tried reading him his good-night books. He wanted different books. All told, I’m guessing we had a good half hour of my-life-is-over type of crying. I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t phone the authorities. Finally, after reading three different books and making a ca-coon with his blanket, we were done. Unbelievably, he stopped crying when I left the room and promptly fell asleep.

I’m not sure if the devil in this story was the candy or the television. He rarely gets candy, and he rarely watches television. I am against giving a 2-year old candy except for special occasions, however I’m not necessarily against television. It’s just that our family rarely watches it as we’d rather be outside walking or riding bikes, or working in the garden or coloring – some other kind of activity. It’s just our preference – not a soap box. This past weekend, however, while at the lake with friends and family he watched a bit more T.V. than usual due to the fact that the other 2-year old that was with us would only settle and cooperate if his parents let him watch television.

If, as I suspect, it was the television that was our devil last night, we will have to act promptly to nip this newly formed habit in the bud. The devil may wear Osh Kosh, but make no mistake, it is I who wears the pants in this family!

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