Whenever we go to the bathroom, Nathan will stop whatever he's doing and break for the door. His goal is to make it into the bathroom with us. If we make it before he does and close the door, it's inevitable that we'll hear him slapping the door and jabbering on the other side. If he does happen to make it in, he'll sit on the floor directly in front of the toilet and stare up at us. It's disconcerting to say the least. Sometimes he'll talk to us on the toilet, other times he'll just laugh at us. Either way, he's very fascinated by our trips to the bathroom. Afterward he likes to examine the toilet and try to peek inside. Since we don't think this is a healthy habit, we try to get him out of the bathroom as quickly as possible. This generally leads to The Tantrum. Nathan's newest habit is to throw a huge fit whenever he doesn't get his way. It doesn't matter how nice we are when we tell him no, or how quickly we replace whatever we've taken away with a toy. He does one of two things, he'll either scream and cry loudly, or he'll throw The Tantrum. The Tantrum consists of him very slowly sticking out his lip while he lowers his face and upper body to the ground. When he's completely flat (in yoga's Child's Pose) he will then let loose the most horrific screaming and crying. He looks as though he's greiving the loss of some lifelong friend. Laying prone on the ground crying as though his heart has broken. It's kinda sad, kinda funny, but mostly OLD! He's been doing this since mid-August, and we're so tired of it. At first we stared in surprise at this outburst, then tried to comfort him. Now we just roll our eyes and walk away if possible. Every time we tell him no this happens. It's always such a big deal. It's not like we say no very often. In fact we're probably spoiling him beyond repair. But when we stop him from doing something gross or potentially dangerous, which seems to be everything he does lately, we get treated to these huge bouts of temper. Today Nathan had a little diarrhea, and I gave him some juice to keep hydrated. He was doing great for a while, then the straw stopped working. (He drank it all.) He screamed and screamed when there was no more juice in the box, and he refused my offer of iced tea. He would have none of Tyson's root beer. He simply threw himself on the floor and screeched until Tyson was able to find another juice box hidden in the cupboard. We have no idea where this behavior comes from. I'm inclined to believe that aliens came and switched babies on me. If anyone knows where my sweet little baby from a month ago went, I'll be happy to pay a reward for his safe return.