Additional degrees of difficulty.

Two brief tales of yesterday:

First, our morning paint spot-check led to the discovery of a few inevitable drops of blue paint on an off-white ceiling. And the eventual related discovery that we have eight different shades of off-white paint (!) stored in cans downstairs from the previous owners. And the later discovery that none of these shades were distantly related to the upstairs ceiling, after multiple patch tests (!!). And the eventual resolution whereby Matt chipped out a small section of the ceiling and took it to the Depot for a paint match, which will now be close enough to use to touch up. We were briefly confronted with the possibility of painting the whole ceiling, then of course basically re-doing the room because ceiling paint always splatters onto the walls...speaking of brief moments of despair. So hurray for the modern miracle of paint matching, and we'll hope to get the touch-up work done tonight and tomorrow.

Second, the Tuckmeister had an incredible meltdown, even for him, at the grocery store yesterday. Sunday afternoon at 2:45 p.m. is apparently an incredibly busy time at the Soopers, so we were four deep in line with everyone's full carts. By the time we were next, he lost all patience and indeed his tenuous grip on reality. (It is worth noting that the people in front of us took this opportunity to fill out the form for a discount card, then to pay by check--I am not kidding, almost 10 minutes of forms--they were NOT HELPING!) He threw a full-body tantrum and when I picked him up he hit me in the face repeatedly and sent my glasses flying. Luckily they did not break. But we seriously had an audience of at least 25 people when I put him down for a second to grab my glasses, and he rolled over and LICKED THE FLOOR. Of the grocery store, on a very muddy/ slimy/ snowy day, the week after he recovered from pneumonia. So I picked him up again and let him flail over my shoulder for a few more minutes before he finally went limp. The man behind me was heard to comment that he would have been beaten at that age for acting like that, right before he congratulated me on doing a great job for not hitting him. That was sweet, really.

I love my son even when he has completely lost his tree. And he did calm down and give me big sorry hugs and sloppy kisses afterwards which did restore our equilibria considerably. Still, I would be the first to invest in a toddler-arm-restraint system of some sort if a humane option were available. Imagine, say, a vest with wristbands that would restrict arm movement by pinning arms and hands to the ribcage with strong magnets after 5 seconds of arm-flailing trigger the system. Any takers? Thoughts for improvement?