I fear Carson has been abducted by aliens. In the past few days he’s gone through some sort of disturbing metamorphosis.
This alien version of Carson is LOUD!!! And he’s SCREAMS! ALL! THE! TIME! FOR! NO! REASON! AT! ALL! He’s even loud when he’s pointing at a snoozing Ella and shouting SSSSSH! BEBE SEEPIN!
He is starting to look different. His noggin is covered in bumps. The entire length of both shins are black and blue and funky shades of purple from his numerous bruises. And his knees both have bloody scabs.
“Carson” must run! Everywhere! And then he’ll fall down because he’s terribly clumsy. He runs! unless we’re in a parking lot and I’m carrying Ella in the carseat. Then he morphs into a turtle, walking as slow as possible and examining every rock. (I always seem to park in gravel lots.)
My sweet little Carson has also become a sweathog. He’s afflicted with Sweaty Head Syndrome, a definite medical condition if you ask me. When he plays outside and gets hot, his head sweats buckets and buckets. He also seems to be affected during his naps, leaving a giant sweat-circle on his pillow. It’s disgusting. I’d expect this from a pubescent boy, not a 20 month old.
Not only is he sweaty, but at the end of the day he just stinks. No longer does he smell like Baby Aveeno. His aroma is that of dirt. And boogers. Maybe even a hint of poo. What happened to my baby boy who I once used to cuddle and sniff because he smelled so good??
Speaking of cuddling, he would rather shove a hot poker in his eye than cuddle with his Mommy. I’ll occasionally get a kiss, but only on the cheek, and if nobody else is around. He’s much to young to think I’m completely uncool.
Simple activities, such as having a drink have become a battle. He wants his Choo Choo milk. NOW! Then suddenly he wants Choo Choo water. NOWWWWWW! Don’t dare give him the Elmo cup. His head spins around and green goo spews from his mouth if every drink is not in his choo choo cup.
Mealtimes leave Carson looking as if he was in a food fight. In reality, I suppose he was in a food fight, just with himself. I’ve mentioned before that he loves to put food in his hair, but it’s gotten worse. He smears food all over his face rather than eat it. I’ve attempted to give him utensils at which he laughs an evil cackle “bwa ha ha” and proceeds to use the spoon as a bat, flinging food everywhere.
If in fact he was abducted by aliens, and by the off chance these aliens happen to read mommy blogs, could you all help me and spread the word that I’d really like to have my regular, sweet, quiet, and clean Carson back? Otherwise, I’m going to need to attend the training titled “Toddlers 101, You’re Screwed Sucka.”