Monday, November 17, 2008

Babbo is "my special little guy"

I know I am not the world's most natural mother. I cried when I found out I was pregnant, and they were not tears of joy (We figured it would take us forever to get preggars, not just one or two tries). I am often at a loss at how to play with a very active three year old. I don't deal with tantrums well.

Lately, though, I've realized that Wyatt has entered a golden age. He is cooperative. He is kind. He is helpful. He is "my special little guy."* He loves Altered Images. He loves the Mutton Birds. He loves books. He is learning his letters and their sounds at breakneck speed. He is getting a lovely sense of humor.

He is so engaged, and so am I.

*Yes, the Simpsons are my role models.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I think that whole natural mother notion may be a myth.

Kids are a real roller coaster... it's good to enjoy the quiet stable times while they last, because some other phase of development is always just around the corner. ; )

Tomatohead said...

Words of wisdom I will take to heart.
Cheers, ears, t.

p.s. why, just this v. morning, we were arguing about whether I was a bad mommie or just a mean mommie. I told him that I was mean and that he could bet his bottom dollar on that! :)

BookyG said...

I know what you mean about the shock of being preggers part...I too thought it would take AT LEAST three months...I was wrong, as I guess were you. Children, what am I getting myself into?

Anonymous said...

You should have a t-shirt made... Mean Mommie... so he'll be reassured every day that life is consistent. Heh.

I'm currently in the dog house for refusing to let one of my girls take a road trip "somewhere in the continental US" with her friends this summer. Tricia -- I bet you can guess which one!

Anonymous said...

I forgot to add... a former neighbor truly did seem like a natural mother... her son was adorable. I stopped by one evening while they were playing, and said just that to her, "You are such a natural mother." At that very moment, her barely two year old son came charging out of the kitchen waving a butcher knife that had been on the counter. She very calmly walked over, took the knife from him, and said to me, "Natural mother, pffff."