Sometimes I feel like the only mom on the planet who has a serious, introverted toddler. Allow me to say that I love him just the way he is, and I don’t want him to change. He is careful. He is a watcher. He is thoughtful. He doesn’t jump on things or climb on things or run away at the playground. He doesn’t beg for Happy Meals. He doesn’t like TV. He has a super-long attention span. He doesn’t ask strangers why they are fat.
He doesn’t like me to talk when he’s having a Really Good Time doing something from his bucket list (you know, little-boy-heaven-stuff like riding a tractor, watching Monster Trucks, or helping Dad use a butane torch). He wants to enjoy it seriously. He isn’t going to shout and do a jig about it just because he’s three. When he rode a pony one time (the Holy Grail of Toddlerhood), people were saying, “Smile, R, why don’t you smile? Aren’t you having fun?” I wanted to say, “Hey, he IS having fun. This frown IS his happy face. He’s concentrating on his fun.”
Ok, those are all wonderful, positive things. I am happy to have a toddler like that. However, ENOUGH WITH THE FREAKING TANTRUMS!