Have I mentioned that my two-year old is developing the attitude of a teenager? A teenager trapped in a cute little body with a cute little voice, but still teenager-ish behavior nonetheless. Being little and cute makes it a little more tolerable. If he acts like this at thirteen, let me just say it will not be quite so forgiveable. You're probably thinking, "He's only two, he can't be that bad." I don't know where this attitude is coming from, but Cale has it. Just last night, I told Cale to do something and he said, "you can't make me". And what could've been the best teachable moment...the moment when I said, "Oh yeah, let me show you how I'll make you..." was a flop. What did I do? My jaw dropped as I wondered where he learned that phrase that I will probably hear many more times in his young little life. He's only two. He's not suppossed to say thingsl like that. Yep, I froze. And I completely missed the moment. Oh yeah, we talked about it later. But, if the wrath would've come down in that exact moment it probably would have been much more traumatic and memorable.

Tonight we went to eat at McCalisters. I didn't feel like cooking. Big surprise. I don't EVER feel like cooking and if we were rich we would eat out every-single-night. And I would have my clothes laundered. And I would hire a weekly maid. It would be nice to be rich (gazing off with faraway look as suddenly I'm no longer typing) Hey,snap out of it. Ain't gonna happen. Okay, back to the subject. Cale has a really bad habit of getting loud when we get into any type of resturant. Really loud. Obnoxiously loud. I don't know if it's a "hey look at me" attention-getting thing or if he just gets that excited. We're trying to work on using a quiet voice but I don't think two-year olds have volume controls. In the middle of eating, Cale decided he wanted to try one of the olives from Carl's sandwich. I knew he wouldn't like it, but he went for it anyway. After a few seconds of chewing, he decided it was "yuck". So, as he started to spit it out, and with lightning speed only a mother or the Road Runner from those old cartoons can have, I put my hand up to catch it (the perks of being a mom). Well, I caught it. I guess I should clarify. I caught some of it. I took my hand away and then Cale decided to blow the rest of the olive-slobber-mess out onto the table. Thank goodness he was sitting by Carl and not me. This is the second time he's spit food out in a resturant, so Carl swatted him, which like a domino effect, caused him to start screaming at the top of his lungs. I could feel myself shrinking into the booth, hoping noone would notice. Because Cale wouldn't stop screaming, Carl scooped him up to head to the bathroom. Cale knows what this means. The whole way to the bathroom Cale kept loudly saying, "Daddy, don't spank me. I stop crying. Daddy please don't spank me!" I wanted to hide under the table at this point. But, I was holding Keaton and I figured it would be hard to get myself and a four-month old under a table. Plus someone would call SCAN on us for sure, then. I kept thinking, "maybe people will see that we have another little one and cut us a little slack." At least I didn't really know anyone there. Wait a minute. It's Russellville, of course there had to be someone there that I knew. As we were getting up to leave, I saw a teacher that I work with. With what I'm sure was an awkward, embarrassed smile and chuckle I said, "Ha..ha...I bet you heard us over there." I think everyone probably did.

On the way home, for some reason unknown to us, Cale started saying, "I don't love you, Daddy." I think two-year-olds sit around and think about how to get a rise out of adults. Cale loves reactions. I think it gives him a sense of power. Like he's pulling the puppet strings. I explained to him that we don't say that and that it makes others feel bad." I really think I got through to him because Cale followed up our pep talk with "I don't love you, Mommy." Strongwilled. Then, as if to put the icing on the cake, he said, "I don't love Jesus." It's like he knew that would be the worst thing he could possibly say. Now, I normally wouldn't tell people about my child saying something like that, but he is only two and is still trying to understand who this Jesus is that we talk about and say our prayers too. (At the moment Cale's a little confused and uneasy, that Jesus lives in the ceiling...Cale's interpretation of Heaven, or that Jesus is in his belly...Cale's interpretation of "Jesus lives in your heart") I tried explaining to Cale that we love Jesus and that Jesus created us. In his agitated two-year-old way, Cale was insistent that Jesus was a girl. No idea why he said that. I think he just wanted to argue. I kept telling him, "No, Jesus is a man." He just kept replying in an irriated tone, "No, hers a girl, not a man!" Poor kid is so confused.

When we got in our garage, Cale told me once again that he didn't love me. So I swatted his leg, scooped him up, and took him to the time-out chair where he screamed and cried the entire time. When it was time to get up, I squatted down beside the chair, and asked Cale to explain to me why he had been put in time- out...just like I always do. But, this time instead of explaining in his cute little sniffly voice, he turned around in the chair, and said, with his back to me, "I don't want to look at you." So, he earned himself a spot in time-out awhile longer.

It was a rough couple of hours, but by bedtime Cale was back to being an angel. Well, at least a pretty good boy. He was funny and full of "lovins", as he likes to say.

Being with a two-year old is like being around someone with multiple personalities, ADHD, and OCD, all wrapped up in one. One minute it's great, the next awful. One minute full of love, the next minute mad at the world. Constantly bouncing off the walls. And the rituals. Oh the rituals. Like shutting the door when we leave Nonna's. Opening up his own gum wrapper. Turning on his light in the morning. If even one is forgotten or interrupted somehow, we have drama.

As much of a trial as he was this evening, we love him like crazy. It's funny how that works.