Sometimes I have trouble reminding myself that JD is a full-fledged toddler.  Most people refer to it as “denial.”  He is my youngest, he is the last, and certainly will be my “baby” forever, right?  I can only ignore those “signs” for so long, those indicators that my baby is on the path to becoming a little boy.

First of all, he now disappears when he needs to make a substantial deposit in his diaper.  There is no magical age when they decide that is something they would rather do in private, but it certainly involves the means to wander off.  I have also caught him in the act of squatting during this process, which is another sign of self awareness or whatever you want to call it.  He will eventually find me, saying “mawm, mawm.”  I initially thought this was seeking me out and calling me by name.  No, it means “I have shat my pants and could use a fluff and buff, please!”

JD has also lost that enthusiasm for food that he once had.  He is no longer constantly starving, so he doesn’t quite dive into everything served on his tray.  I have had enough bananas hurled at me lately to realize that.  He shows great enthusiasm for cookies though.  Definitely takes after his father!

But the tantrums?  That is how you know for sure that your baby has evolved into a toddler.  The adorable little face crumpling?  Sure, that remains.  However, that used to be the extent of the tantrum.  They made the face, they cried, you gave them a wooden spoon and a hug, and once again all was right in the world.

Not anymore.

JD is now capable of full-fledged tantrums.  Once he has been thwarted from his heart’s desire (perhaps breaking another casserole dish) he will take a few stumbling steps.  He then throws himself to the floor, prepared to writhe and cry inconsolably for as long as it takes for me to realize the error of my ways.  Where he once might crawl  to me for comfort, now he rolls away, as if he finally caught on that I am the source of his frustration.

Toddlers have little survival instinct to begin with.  They are just beginning to understand things like turning around and going down the stairs backwards.  When in the throes of a major tantrum, even that meager caution is thrown out the window.

JD recently had a tantrum on the porch.  Unfortunately, after his stumbly steps, he hurled himself not onto the porch, but right down to the grass.  Fortunately, he was fine except for the abject terror of falling so far (the porch isn’t all that high up, but still).  Maybe that was better, since falling down on the concrete of our porch wouldn’t have felt very good either.

Another tantrum led to him flinging himself to the floor, only to discover there was a toy garbage truck where his head was going to land.  There was no bleeding, but it was still painful to watch!

Fun times, fun times.

If nothing else, this stage can prepare a first time mother for an important lesson: your child learning independence from you really bites the big one.  That and you never can completely protect them from life.

For an experienced mother, it is more like “how the hell did I forget about this stage?  I wanted to do this again?  What was I thinking?”

Especially when the latest hissy fit is because you won’t let them chew on the toilet brush or play in the street, or frolic in their own fecal matter since those deft little fingers discovered how to undo diaper tabs.

It is hard to leave the baby stage behind.  You reminisce about when every problem could be solved with a diaper change or your breast.  Now he demands to be treated like a big boy, complete with bribes of frozen treats and candy.

It has been a very long summer.

If I were an optimist, I would say that once school starts, my job will be easier, at least until 3 PM.  Since most people would not describe me as a glass half full kind of woman, and I have been around the block a few times, I know otherwise.

But that’s another story, coming in a few short weeks…..

If I make it that long.