Bauer, as I mentioned, hulks-out. Something doesn't go his way (like those damn pepperonis that don't realize they render the entire slice inedible if they don't stay put), and it's like he just discovered his credit is so bad he needs a cosigner for a car note and his wife's been creeping with his best friend and his son's in jail. But he's also got dementia so he gets to come to these devastating realizations multiple times a day.
It's not funny. It makes for some really long days. I'm frequently this close to throwing a ear-piercing screaming, slamming things to the ground, leg-spastic kicking tantrum myself. But I figure this is what he's here to teach me. I am an adult and I have a stronger will for patience and monk-like calmness in the face of the storm. That like every developmental stage, this too shall pass and soon enough, I will look back on these days and keel over with laughter, and wish that his problems were still so simple.
But this post isn't about how I seriously deal with the issue (maybe later?), but about how nice it would be if it were funny now. I thought, what if I did a similar feature on my blog, showcasing what a delight it is to have a mini person who's tiny world is so seemingly tumultuous. It'd help me find humor in the most trying of days.
And then I discovered it.
Maybe the most powerful tool in my anti-tantrum arsenal.
This boy does NOT want photographic evidence of his meltdowns. See 15/52 for what happened when I tried to take a picture of him refusing to stand up and screaming about candy near the checkout. Immediate calmness. See below when he was so angry that dinner had the nerve to need to be cooked (!) that he felt the garbage can needed to be punished. I pulled out the camera and it was like he snapped back from an out of body experience.
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