There are days when I just give up, and this was one of them. Mondays are always hard, for all of us. B has spent two days hanging out with us and isn’t interested in moving quickly towards anything except (a) the couch or (b) the train table.
Today was typical Monday. Our morning was all whining and pouting (and that was before B even got out of bed.) When B got up – excuse me, deigned to arise from his nest – he had forgotten English and was speaking Whinasaur, “Watch train!” and “Juicy, mommy!!” These are the days when I look at him and wonder, “Who are you?”
Everything is a negotiation, and it’s exhausting. B does not want Daddy, he wants Mommy. He wants Mommy to “play train,” and “read bookie,” and “hug”. (That last one is impossible to resist. “Mommy Hug?” Ok, you got me, kid.) Breakfast this morning was half of a hot dog (nitrates are a food group, right?) and candy. Yes, candy for breakfast. MomMom brought some Valentines Day candy, and I had forgotten to secure it in an undisclosed location before going to bed on Sunday, so there it was on the table this morning … The next thing I knew, I heard myself say, “Sure, have candy for breakfast. Here, give one of those to Mommy.” As Mr. wisely pointed out, we were sending him off to day care, so his sugar high was really someone else’s problem. Thank goodness one of us was thinking clearly.