He's driving me nuts.

God help me. I love him, but he is making me crazy. Jake, that is. It seems like he goes through hellion spurts, and we are in the midst of one now. He is not so bad at home, but if you bring him anywhere, prepared to be stared at and judged.

We took him to the Stampede again. Again, big mistake on my part. Once is enough. We are almost ready to go home, just trying to use up the last of our ride tickets. Jake starts whining about how he wants to go on the rainbow slide (again, a slide is the bane of our existence). I explained to him earlier that he wasn't quite big enough yet, and he would have to wait until next year. So he starts freaking out. I'm sure the heat and the fact that it is almost lunch and nap time are coming into play as well. So I tell him if he can't calm himself down, we are going home. He couldn't calm himself down. So poor Jeff had to pretty much drag him, kicking, screaming, spitting, and pulling his own hair, to our car which was not parked nearly close enough.

One of the bystanders says, "Awww, he hasn't had enough?" I made a mental note to never say anything to anyone involved in a tantrum situation. You can't say anything to make the situation any better, so just be quiet. Please.

Then he was a maniac at my parent's house yesterday too. Which I am sure is just sweet, sweet justice to my parents, because I was a maniac as a child as well. The only difference is that they spanked me. We have decided not to spank Jake, but man, I sure spank him in my mind sometimes.

But it isn't all bad. He comes up to me this morning, holding three balls. He gives them to me and tells me to "jungle". I'm about as graceful as a drunken hippo, so it's safe to say juggling isn't one of the things on my talent list. But I was flattered that he thought I could.