Leo.  For 2 hours and 56 minutes, I have tried to get Leo to take a nap.  I have tried every trick I know, every advice column "Do" & "Don't."  I have failed...at it all.  Finally, ignoring him for hours and hours on end got old and Leo just snuck out.  I continued to ignore him.  He curled up next to me.  I didn't lay eyes on him.  And ninety seconds later, he was snoring.  Relieved, I am, yes.  But what am I doing wrong? 

Recently, I told Adam that I don't know how to be the Mom that Leo needs right now.  (These kinds of comments are the reason the boys won't be able to read this until they are grown.  Perhaps until they have kids of their own.)  I try.  God knows, I try.  God also knows that I love that kid so viciously, I can almost not stand it at times.  We need each other.  Lately, though, we need each other so much that we need a break from each other. 

He wants to be on me all day long.  Physically, on me.  He completely melts down when he can't get his way, soothed only if I hold him to me really tight for a period of time.  (It's much like Leo as a baby.  Happiest when we are belly-to-belly.  So help me, he would do skin-to-skin all day long if he could.)  The way to handle Leo sounds easy.  Get down on his level.  Don't reason with him.  Don't talk to him until he has calmed down.  Curse.  Curse.  Curse.  Easier said than done.  Friday night, Leo threw a tantrum so badly that he gave himself a black eye flinging the books off his bookshelf.  I gave up, not enforcing anything because I was too exhausted, because I had company and didn't want to expose her to endless screaming, and because I felt badly that his life seems like an endless string of discipline at the moment.  Curse again.  I don't know what to do, aside from pad the walls in his room.  Bolt the furniture from the floor.  Strap him in his bed at night.  Sigh.  I'm failing. 

It must be said that this is a new phase for Leo.  Granted, he has always been stubborn and set in his ways.  That much we know.  But this temper, this atomic-level-meltdown business is new.  And I don't know what set it off.  I have been told that it's Middle Child Syndrome, and because I am afflicted with a terrible case of the Catholic Guilts, I think it is all my fault.  Maybe we made him a big brother before he was ready?  Maybe he needs some more one-on-one?  Maybe my approach is only making him worse? 

Then again, maybe, just maybe this will pass.  Maybe, once this last molar is in, I will get my sweet baby back?  This is a steep learning curves, and I am no good at climbing an incline.  My baby, my sweet, goofy, funny baby Leo is such an extraordinary kid that I feel badly thinking this, much less posting it.  Pray that it passes.  Don't judge my baby.  And if you see me out and I'm frazzled, sharp-tounged, tearful, or otherwise, don't judge me, either. 

For now, I will enjoy the smell of this sweet, snoring, bruised-up-because-he-doesn't-know-his-limits baby.  Sweet Leo.