The fun is just beginning.

I've finally figured out what was wrong with Connor all last week. We thought he had some terrible illness, when in fact he was simply suffering from demonic possession. Our willful, (but sweet) 15 month old has turned into our very own hell-spawn.

Shane said to Jorma once... "Write this down. When he turns about 15 months old you're going to think the terrible twos have come early... but they haven't. You ain't seen nothin yet."
I believe this.

It seems he's trying to test his limit and set some ground rules for mommy and daddy. They are*:

- You are not allowed to do anything that does not involve paying attention to me
- I will make the hungry sign every 30 minutes, at which time you will bring me a graham cracker. I will not eat the graham cracker at this time.
- I will not nap.
- Daddy will not be leaving the room.
- Mommy can leave the room, but only if Daddy is throwing me up in the air at the time.
- I will not wear PJ's.
- I will not eat while you are watching me
- I will not keep those ridiculous bear socks on my feet
- I will not show you where my nose is, or refrain from turning the TV off and on and off and on and off and on and...

* Misunderstanding of any of the above rules, may result in a spitting up pea soup, head spinning around, screaming, all out - temper tantrum.

Oh don't give up on the blog just yet my friends... the fun is just beginning.