Friday, August 15, 2008

When it's hard to be mad



While sitting here trying to decide what to write, my 2 year old son, who was supposed to be asleep in his crib, walked in. He said, "I'm awake now". Which was, well, quite obvious. I asked if he climbed out of the crib, a skill I'm beginning to think he has learned. He said, "Yes". Then he handed me a child size version of a hard hat, like those worn on construction site, for me to wear. I dutifully put the hat on my head and smiled at my son. He said, "You're pretty". I thanked him, he said "You're welcome", he took back his hat and left the room. It's hard to be mad sometimes.

It reminds me of the other day when I was bringing him in from the car. He wanted to stay out front to play, but since I wasn't going to be out there with him I flung him over my shoulder and started to carry him to the house.

He was protesting so I cajoled, "Peter, just let me love you".

"No, mom, don't love me", he replied angrily.

"Oh, I love you, Peter!" I persisted.

In the same angry sounding voice, each word emphasized, "Mom, I love you, too!"