New Math: 20 = 24?

Yesterday Lucas turned 20 months old. This morning I turned into the mom of a toddler.

I've been telling family and friends that we were seeing the start of the tantrums, willfullness, independence, etc. that are part of the "terrible twos" for a few weeks now. But this morning it hit full-force. (Please let this have been full-force!) This morning--the one morning that Abel is out of town for work. The one morning that I had to get to work by 8:30am. The one morning that I had to prepare for houseguests coming this evening and pack for our own trip this weekend. (Yes, I did as much as possible the night before, but there are always those last minute things, you know.)

Oh, and did I mention that Lucas woke up at 5:30am?

It all started out nice enough. So he woke up at 5:30am (a full hour earlier than normal) but he was content to play in my bed for a little bit while I half-closed my eyes for another 15 minutes. We went downstairs and he drank all his milk and ate a banana. I had my cereal. Life was good. I felt confident I'd get everything done and we'd get out the door in a timely manner.

Then. What? I don't know!

The littlest things caused meltdowns. Usually I can hug Lucas or distract him. But not today. All I could do was sit back and let him stomp his feet, clench his fists, hold his breath, turn red, stomp some more, yell...all until he got it out of his system. Then he was fine. Happy. Playful.

Until about 45 minutes later something else. I don't know what. And the tantrum started again.

Okay, he was tired. And I know he missed Dada--he kept looking for him and asking for him. But these reactions were just so extreme. I know this is part of life...he's learning to sort his emotions and handle new/different situations. But it was so hard for me. It was so hard to watch, to not really be able to help him. I just felt so bad for my little guy.