A love, hate relationship

I'm currently in a love, hate relationship.

I'm in love with him...

(future Chip-n-Dale's Dancer. We highly promote visitors to stuff dollar bills in his diaper)

But lately I'm hating his crazy antics. The kid does not stop. I'm at my wit's end and I'm exhausted.

He empties at least 5 drawers at least 5 times EVERY DAY.

Today he learned how to push down the childproof thingy on the cabinet door to our stash of DVDs and other movies. He emptied the cabinet 4 times and scratched at least 5 DVDs, while pushing them along the tile floor. ALL of the movies are currently laying in a mountain-ous heap on top of my bed.

I have re-arranged all of his dresser drawers and moved all of the items to his closet. It's only a matter of time before he learns how to climb the shelves in his closet. I'm so screwed.

I have also emptied 3 drawers in my kitchen. And I miss those drawers! He has also learned how to open the knife drawer. He has brandished a knife to various family members a total of 3 times now. As we run for our lives, he giggles. Scary.

Yesterday his nursery leader, who has been in the nursery for at least 9 years (her choice), told us that she has never had a toddler push a chair to the door, climb on top, and try to open the door. We are so proud. Not!

My friend tells me that he is quite intelligent, because of his problem solving abilities. Um, I wouldn't mind having a 'not so intelligent' child. Oh how quickly she has forgotten the time when Conner chucked a lamb from her Guatemalan Nativity scene across her family room and broke it's leg off. He broke the 'lamb of God'!

I have vowed to never take him shopping again. I'm positive I heard the Target employees applauding, as we left the store today. My apologies to the fellow shoppers that became the target of various flying objects, from our cart. Especially the nice gentleman that had to 'hit the ground', while Conner flung a package of feminine hygiene at his noggin. At least the package was soft.

I'm tired of the tantrums. I'm tired of the mischief. I'm tired of having to shut EVERY door behind me, because if I don't Conner will destroy everything in his path. I'm tired of him climbing EVERYTHING. I'm tired of him, throwing his food, utensils, cups and plates/bowls, every time he eats. (and I mean every time!) I'm tired of wrestling him with EVERY diaper change (for a year now!)

I'm just tired.

But then, there are the moments when he melts my heart.

I love how he runs. He has a little trot and the sound of him running on the wood floor makes me smile. I love his giggle. I love that he has his dad's bum chin. Cody inherited it also. I love his hair. He has the "Alfalfa" thing going for him. I love how he loves his big brother. I love it when he dances. When he dances he yells, "Weeeeeeeee!" I love his silliness. I love how his brain works. Even though I am sometimes tempted to sell him to the gypsies.

I know that this difficult age will pass and I will look back and actually miss this stage. One day he will no longer climb his dresser over and over and over again to inspect the digital thermometer.

(this is the look I got, when I threatened to change to a rectal thermometer, if he didn't stop messing with the digital one.)

What I do know is that the enjoyable times with Conner may be few and far in between, lately...but I know that when they do happen, he makes it all worth it.