Snips and Snails and Puppydog Tails

How could this sweet face be capable of that much drama?

Oh my, the toddler years are full of drama. We’ve begun drama about clothes, shoes, food, baths, anything that keeps Sam from doing what he wants to do, when he wants to do it. Usually, the fits are short-lived. Take this morning, for example: Sam wakes up, screams for me calls to me from his bed. I go in to get him up and he wants me to hold him. The phone rings – it’s Daddy, asking if I could bring him something that he left at home. As He and Sam talk a minute, I pick Sam up out of his crib and hold him. After they’re done talking, I ask Sam what he wants to wear, and the drama begins.

M: Can I put you down so we can pick out your clothes?
S: noooooooooooooooooooo!
M: (puts him down anyway) Do you want these pants?
S: nooooooooooooooooooo! Dose pants! (pointing at jean shorts…it’s 40 degrees out)
M: No, you can’t wear shorts today. It’s too cold. What about these pants? (pointing out jeans)
S: noooooooooooooooo!
M: Are you sure? Mommy and Daddy are both wearing pants like this today.
S: no000…yes, dose pants.
M: What shirt do you want? Longhorns?
S: nooooooooo!
M: Alien?
S: Noooooooooooooooo!
M: button-down?
S: noooooooooooooo! Want DAT one! (pointing indiscriminately to all the shirts in his closet.)
M: which one? this one?
S: nooooooooooooo!
M: this one?
S: noooooooooooo!
M: (finally landing on the red, white, and blue tie-dyed shirt his teacher made him for 4th of July) this one?
S: YES!

Um, well…maybe drama’s not SOOO much of a stretch for him, based on this.

Drama 1, done (finally). I suggest we go downstairs for breakfast, and Sam wants to be carried. Okay, now, Mommy has pants, shirts, and half a dozen empty hangers in her hands to take downstairs. Sam has Dark Brown Sugar Bear and Light Brown Sugar Bear in his hands. Naturally, I suggest that Sam walk down the stairs like a big boy (with my help, of course) because Mommy’s hands are full. Queue Drama 2:

S: Up! UP! UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!
M: No, baby, Mommy can’t carry you right now. Let’s walk down together.
S: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
M: Sam, come on, baby. Let’s go have breakfast.
S: NOOOOOOOOOOOO! (heading back toward his room)
M: Do you want to go back to bed? Are you not ready to get up yet?
S: (dancing between going back to his room and coming toward me) NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I don’ WANNA go back to bed!
M:  Ok, then let’s go downstairs for breakfast.
S: NOOOOOOOOOOOO!
M: You don’t want breakfast? We have cinnamon rolls…
S: NO-YES! I want cimmanin rolls!

Drama 2, done. Thankfully, that was the last drama for this morning. Typically we have at least three, with one centering around getting fresh pants (which, of course, interrupts the playing) and getting teeth brushed (which is a fate worse than death lately).

What are your morning dramas? Clothing? Food? Diaper changes? Teeth brushing? All of the above?