redemption

First off, can't thank you all enough for all your kind, comforting, insightful comments about T's [apparently relatively normal] toddlerness. It's becoming clear to me that more than parenting advice, a lot of parents just want to be told that theirs isn't the only kid in the world to behave like a terror. I'm also delighted to announce that T was a dream child during our recent week-long trip to Utah to see Ty's sister off on her mission.

He loved staring out my mother-in-law's gorgeous kitchen windows at the snow. He quickly learned how to say snow, which sounds more like a nasalized "nnnnooohhh." He also learned how to say Nat (again, more of a "NA[glottal stop]!"), probably as a farewell gift to his missionary aunt.

I know you all just saw this beach picture last week, but that's the thing I couldn't get over -- same California kid, completely different climate, same blissfully happy stance. Photos taken exactly one week apart. He had to be dragged inside kicking and screaming (and freezing).

And then there's the silly hipster kid who got into his grandma's reading glasses.

So I feel like I owe T a little chance for redemption. Given my graphic description of his tantrums, you'd think he were on his way to becoming a sociopathic bully. But Tyler pointed out that the same passionate streak that causes T to get really, really mad, also lets him be extremely happy and laugh without reservation. 

I almost never post videos on this blog or on Facebook (in fact, I'm not entirely sure I even know how to do it). The main reason for that is because I sound like a fool when I talk to my child. And also, video-worthy material has this way of happening when your kid is looking particularly ragamuffinish and there's a pizza box on top of the stove, and a strainer and a stuffed animal on the high chair tray. However, after much deliberation, I'm hoping that you can forgive all of that, and just watch this kid throw his head back in a breathless cackle and let it make you happy.