I mentioned in my last post about having the best breakfast in the country, here in Park City where we are spending our first family vacation. This breakfast is worth having its own post. Not because of the food (heavenly as it was) but because this is when Daryl and I realized.... it's happening. Our sweet natured baby boy is becoming a demanding pistol of a toddler.
We knew it would happen sooner or later,but I was really hoping he would hold this off until he was two, or at least until he was a full year! His birthday isn't until next week, and he's already steering us into some hair raising tantrums.
The morning at the cafe started out nice enough. We put our name in, and had to wait a few minutes before being seated. Jonah was his typical, lovely self. I offered him milk in his sippy cup, he flirted with a woman sitting opposite from us, and Daryl had a fun game of peek a boo with him. Typical. We then were seated. I put Jonah in the high chair and buckled him in. Still typical. Gave him a toy, and fastened it to the chair with some links. typical. About a minute after we sat down and started to look at the menu, we heard the most awful sound come out of our child. "aaaaAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" uhhh? He gave his sign for drink, so I poured some water into his sippy and gave it to him. He threw it on the floor and made the noise again, only this time it was louder and even more grating. I tried to draw his attention to his toy. He's getting louder. A new toy? He's now waving his hands in the air and holding his breath. I started to panic, thinking something was wrong- was he choking? He finally gave in and drew in another breath, only to follow it with that terrible sound "AAAAGH! AGH AGH AAAAGH!" Where did my sweet baby go?
Daryl and I just sat, bug eyed, staring at eachother, hoping the other would know what to do to diffuse this situation. "Can't you give him some puffs or something?" Daryl asked, in that tone that let me know he was as embarrased and befuddled about this as I was. "I didn't bring any!" I whispered back in the nervous tone that told him I was completely out of control. It was obvious now, Jonah was in his high chair, and he expected to be fed. Now. He was throwing a tantrum.
"people are staring..." Daryl said. I looked around the small cafe. Heads throughout were turned our direction. Some were mothers, smiling as if to say "I've been there so many times, sister!" some were teenagers, eyebrows raised, and some were just innocent bystanders trying to enjoy their otherwise perfect brunch.
Just as Jonah went in for another breath hold, the waitress came with the food. Finally. It was only a few minutes, but it had felt like an eternity. I went rigth to work, cutting watermelon and fruit like a mad woman; while Daryl eagerly blew on oatmeal to cool it, the whole time Jonah was reminding us that he was STILL waiting.
After Jonah was fed, I still needed to eat my scrumptious meal. Jonah's food was gone, but he was threatening to start the storm again. He has just begun to realize when people are eating something that he doesn't have. Even if he is not hungry, he does not want to be left out of the loop when it comes to food. On one hand, I can't blame him- food is good stuff! On the other hand, I couldn't share my eggs benadict, which is not safe for an infant to eat (undercooked eggs) Daryl quickly jumped on the situation and took him outside. I could see them from the window, playing airplane, as I ate. Jonah had returned to his cheerful and sweet self. If this is a preview of what's to come, I'm bunkering down because toddlerhood is going to be storm filled with brimstone and fire.