Callan was a trooper today. He survived three hours at the Doctors office, and another three hours round trip in the Car. He played hard at the beach, and only flipped out momentarily after his bath tonight. For three nights in a row he has fallen asleep on his own, has slept the whole night in his bed, and been generally pleasant. Saturday was kind of rough because I had class in the morning at our home and Callan was having a hard time sharing with the four older students I was teaching. He melted into a tantrum, and soon after Dad and Mom both wigged out pretty bad. A general mood of yuck prevailed over the house for most of the day, and in the evening we all had a talk about how to handle "the two year old inside all of us" better. It is easy to forget that inside each of us is a two year old, and that though we've gotten bigger and learned social expectations about expressing our needs, and have found better ways to get what we want, each of us still has a tendancy to let the two year old out when things get rough. I know mine does. What kills is that Callan, for good and for bad, mimicks everything that I do. That is perhaps the greatest impetus for controlling my tongue, and my temper. He is a great kid. Today Kelly Walther, his nursery teacher said, "Callan always says please about everything." He is a very kind and thoughtful child who is always concerned about his Mommy and Daddy. Today I hit my head really hard on our hatch back door and Callan walked up to me and said, 'You alright Daddy?