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!"

Queen Mom

Yesterday I was Queen. After wasting away the morning reading a book, I sat on the living room sofa nursing my 2 month old contemplating all that needed to be done before my parents came to stay with us for the weekend. I was feeling sorry for myself, frustrated that Entropy seemed to be ruling my household with my children its subjects. How was I to convince my children that they really should stop destroying things? I pondered for a time and concluded that I needed to come down from my throne and mingle with my subjects. So, I donned my tiara (literally-yes, I own a tiara and wear it on occasion) and got to work.

First, I grabbed some wood glue, and under the careful supervision of my 4 year old princess, I glued the piano bench back together in what may turn out to be a vain attempt to prolong its life. Next, I gathered the children downstairs in the family room where my two brothers will be sleeping, sat myself down with a trash bag and a toy box and proceeded to direct my children in the art of counting trash. Meanwhile, I sorted through the toy box, removing trash and other treasures. As the day progressed, a couple loads of laundry were done, supervision of the removal of debris and the like from my prince's bedchamber occurred, ice cream was made and a sewing project and a half were completed.

At some point during the afternoon a friend came by to drop something off. After she left, I realized I still had my tiara on. I laughed to myself and continued to create order where entropy once reigned.