Today at work was a rough day. One of those days when I couldn’t possibly be in every place I needed to be. When I was constantly behind the 8 ball and felt like every effort I made to be helpful ended badly. When everything I said came out the wrong way. Just one of those days.
I was looking forward to picking up Little Man from daycare. He is my little love and can always put a smile on my face with his two year old silliness. Tonight when I picked him up (late) I was handed a plastic bag full of wet and poopy pants. Apparently potty training is not 100% finished yet. I put his shoes on, without socks, because his socks were also peed on and in the plastic bag. He got mad because he thought his shoes were on the wrong feet. I tried to explain to him that they were on the correct feet, but felt weird because of no socks. Have you ever tried to rationalize anything with a 2 year old? Yeah, doesn’t work for me either.
So I managed to get him to the car (it felt like it was midnight…. not used to Daylight Savings Time yet) and he insisted on getting in his seat himself. Instead of climbing in his car seat, however, he managed to slip into the very back of my almost-but not quite-mini van, and as much as I waved my arm around, I could not quite reach him.
“Buddy? Mommy really wants to get home, so could you please come up here and get in your seat?”
“Come on buddy! Mommy needs you to be her big helper, so just…..” I’m still trying to grab him as he’s jumping around in the back of the car like an overcaffeinated howler monkey.
“NO! I do it MYSELF!“
“Great, do it yourself. Come up here and get in your seat like a big boy, just….. OW!” I had managed to grab him and put him in his seat and his flailing, unsocked, but shoed feet kicked me in the ribs.
I got in the front seat and started driving in the pitch black darkness. When I have had a rough day, there is one sweet routine that Little Man and I have that will always make me feel better.
I say “Hey Little Man!”
“I love you”
“Wub you Mommy.”
How can that not make me smile?
Tonight, of course, that sweet exchange did not go so smoothly. Instead it went like this:
“Hey Little Man!”
“I love you”
“I don’t care.”
“You don’t…. what?!?”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, buddy, that’s not very nice. You should talk nice to Mommy.”
Well this is fun.
We pulled into the garage and I attempted to lug him and my 76 bags plus one poop filled pants bag into the house. He pulled his hood up over his head and sat on the top step into the garage with his arms crossed. Except he can’t quite figure out how to cross his arms with his hands under his armpits and so he puts both of his hands on top of his arms. If he nods his head he may just do some kind of genie magic.
I let him stew there for awhile while I got some things put away and my jacket taken off. Then I asked him if he was ready to come in the house.
I”m starting to sense a theme here.
The rest of the evening didn’t go much better. We went a few rounds over the choice of dinner, over what toys were in the bathtub, about whether I skipped pages in the bedtime story. Okay, he caught me….. I did try to skip a few pages and he rightfully busted me. In my defense, it had been a long, exhausting day and I could not read one more page of ‘Beep, Beep Blue Truck’. My attempt backfired horribly, however, when I had to read the stupid book all the way through twice to prove that I actually read it all. He’s a book Nazi, that kid.
Right now, he is finally sleeping and looks so sweet and angelic. He is my little love again. I guess it was a rough day for all of us.
Just one of those days.