Xavier (ds11.75) has really been feeling his oats lately. I knew I was in trouble when he grew a full inch in less than two weeks. Now my sweet, compliant, hard-working, might-as-well-get-it-over-with boy has turned into a whiny, demanding, foot-dragging grumbler who thinks he's funny when he annoying other people--specifically his mother. Oy! At lunch today I had to threaten to send him to his room if he said, "Did the dingo eat your baby?" one more time, despite his excellent approximation of a British accent. (I managed the first 450 times quite gracefully, I thought.)
Tonight he wanted me to stand in his room for an indeterminant amount of time while he leaned on me. Then he complained about the order in which I put the blankets on his bed, how I tucked him in and whether his arms were in or out of the blankets. I don't like to be rude to my children, but I finally had to just close the door and walk away. I know he was just playing, but mein Gott!
The good news is that Wolfie (ds12.75) has really grown up in the last few months, so I know there's hope for Xavier. If he lives that long.