It was one of those weekends where I have to come back to work to relax! On Saturday, Wm had his amigo Vivian over for a play date. The two of them are insane. I had a BIG talk with Wm about staying OUT of Mom and Dad's room with friends (the last time he had a friend over they entertained themselves by taking all our clothes out of the closet and throwing them at each other). So Wm is going potty and I hear him yell, "Vivvie! You can't go in my mom and dad's room!" Then I hear feet running. So I scream up, "DO NOT GET OFF THE POTTY UNTIL YOU ARE DONE!" Wm poo flying around is waaaaaay worse than clothes flying around. I may have oversold the "you can't go into my room" line.
On Sunday, while I went out with Suz, Steve and Wm decided to go out to lunch and to see a movie. I come home, expecting to find an empty house. Instead, Steve is sitting downstairs fuming and Wm is quietly playing in his room. Turns out, Wm MAJORLY freaked out at the movie and demanded to come home. So Steve was livid, but trying to reign it in and act like it wasn't a pain in the butt. He was grumpy all evening. Wm and I have been to see movies and he never really cares for the dark or loud noise, but he's always had a good time. So I'm going to try and take him this weekend to make sure he's not getting weird phobias. Cause that DEFINITELY does not run in the family. :) Because, perhaps, I can relate to weird phobias and Steve cannot, I usually handle Wm's freak outs better and can talk him down. Steve just thinks we both belong in a padded room and very poorly attempts to conceal his disdain for us crazies.
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