Gentle Touches and Monster Trucks

When did he get to be so... gigantic? Jay asked to hold baby Ella yesterday, and as I held my breath and prepared to rescue a helpless newborn at any second, he calmly and tenderly stroked her head. Once Mama Bear retreated back to her cave and I was able to think actual thoughts again, all I could come up with was, "Dude.. he is HUGE. He's like... like a monster truck in a land of Miatas."

We're having ups and downs and plenty of power stuggles here, however. The other day for instance, he lobbed a piece of melon on the floor.

I told him to pick it up.

"No".

I said, "Jay, pick up that piece of melon. NOW."

He flashed his naughty eyes and said, "No."

I said, "Excuse me, go PICK IT UP."

He steeled himself, looked me dead in the eye and with all the strength he could muster in that two year old little body he replied, "MAMA pick it up".

It was ON.

In the end I won, because I am bigger and can do things like pick him up and cart his little butt into his room for some time to think about who should REALLY be the one to pick up melon from the carpet. But, for a second or two there, it was difficult to see who had the upper hand as I reeled in disbelief.

Being two and suddenly having a new sibling is probably the perfect storm for misbehavior, but it still catches me by surprise when he is so flagrantly out of line. Forget his college fund. I am starting to save up now for my therapy bill once he's a teenager.