It’s become apparent recently that the Noodle’s nickname is somewhat more appropriate for the toddler years than we might have thought. See, when a full blown tantrum is to be had, the kid has a way of making all his bones disappear, to turn himself into a floppy noodle.
I’m fully that parent who, as long as we’re not in the way of danger or other people, will gladly let my kid flail about in the middle of a tantrum. But when you’re in the middle of, oh, say, a parking lot? Or perhaps the road? It’s not really advisable to just leave your child to flop around boneless.
But the kid seems to have perfected the noodle-bones in his shoulders–he’ll wait until I’ve picked him up and then BOOM! No bones. And he goes slipping through my hands.
Lovely, this tantrum stage.
Luckily, I’m perfecting my noodle carry–which, come to think of it, is somewhat like carrying a sack of potatoes, or flour. You either hike the kid under an arm, or over a shoulder. We both look ridiculous, but better than letting him get run over in a parking lot.
I’m hoping at some point after the toddler years, the noodle bones phenomenon stops happening so often though. I much prefer when the Noodle is a nickname for his sweet times, not his tantrum times.