because apparently, I wasn't such a well-behaved child either. Last night, when we got home from work/daycare, the kid was in top form. I mean, we simply walked in the door and he started throwing some attitude. First, he demands to go upstairs and play with his computer and, before going up the stairs, proceeds to overturn 2 baskets of clean laundry on the living room floor. When I asked him to pick up the clothes, he screamed, "NO!" and starts to head up the stairs. No sooner do I tell him he must pick up the clothes before he plays on his computer does the kid go into full-on tantrum mode. Ok. I wait. He's done. He then picks up said clothes. But this is only the beginning of the evening.
I'll spare you the gory details, but in a nutshell, the next hour and a half was filled with at least 2 more tantrums, more demands (from the kid, not from me), some pushing and hitting (again, originated from the kid, NOT from me), and at least one time out. I mean, I knew that 2 years old was going to be tough, but MY GOD will I survive? Then, M called on his way home from work to tell me he'd be home in about 20 minutes and it was like the skies parted and heaven shone upon me. At the time I was making dinner and getting it ready to put it in front of the kid, thinking, "Thank God - when M gets home, he can feed the kid and I'm going upstairs to lay down."
Well, as I'm putting together the kid's dinner and telling him to get to the table, he runs into the kitchen and sees his dinner. He raises his hands and starts clapping, exclaiming, "Good JOB, Mommy!" Then he sits at the table and I sit next to him. He leans over and looks up at me with those big, baby brown eyes and says, "Mommy pretty - I lub you mommy!" And my heart melts.
So even on days like this, it's TOTALLY worth it.
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