worry, worry

We've been weaning Elliott from the bottle. He was doing great until he went back to daycare this week. There, he sees his cousin Cameron's bottle, and all the memories flood into his overstimulated little brain, and it is too much for him to handle. He does angry somersaults on the floor, steps on Cameron's torso, throws blocks and hard plastic toys over his shoulder that hit other children. He screams and screams. When I pick him up after work, I apologize a lot, but I feel frustrated because it isn't my fault either. I don't whisper in his ear, "Hey kid, can you be an a-hole at daycare today? That would be hilarious." I feel embarrassed, like I am doing something wrong. I don't know why he acts likes this. It's not just daycare; it's everywhere. At the Wild Animal Park, he tries to run past the posted warnings into the area where all those giraffes, gazelles, and LIONS live. He screams when we stop him. He throws his sippy cup forcefully onto the floor when he is done drinking. He slams his head into his high chair, crying out in pain, when he's done eating. I remember the first several months when I thought I had a calmer kid on my hands and I realize that I have nothing of the sort. That's fine, but what do I do about the fact that he isn't saying anything regularly, that he doesn't appear to care (or even respond, really) when I tell him "no?" How do we get him to learn, to speak, to interact better? It's especially painful when I see him around my friends' son, my sister's daughter, and the kids at the playground, who are all the same age or even much younger. I love this beautiful little boy, but I feel like such a crappy parent sometimes.