Such a goober :)
So my sweet, precious little boy that I lovingly refer to as Monster Boy has lived up to his name today! Lots of fussing, screaming and general tantrum throwing going on today. It seems every time I look at him he's whining at me for something. Usually over nothing, but still the whining continues. The small headache I had when I woke up was a full blown migraine by lunchtime. It was just a bad day.
And then I realized something. While most people would probably tell me my son is being a brat and playing me, trying to get his own way. He's not. He's feeding off the way I'm feeling. So he's feeling my lack of patience and expressing it the only way he can. He doesn't know how to tell me to relax and be patient with him. That's my job! So instead my baby boy acted the way I wanted to. He stomped his feet, cried and whined. Next time I need to take my cues from him. He knew we were in for a rough day and didn't want to do anything. But I tried to get everything I needed to done, when I should have camped out in the living room and spent the day watching movies and playing with my boy.
It's a mistake I will not make again. The time I get to spend with my child is far more important than anything I needed to do today (or any other day for that matter). Almost immediately after this realization it was as if I had a completely different child. My sweet little boy is back and I'm keeping him. ;)
My sweet little man <3
Babies Don’t Keep
by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton
Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren’t his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.
The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.
by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton
Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing, make up the bed,
Sew on a button and butter the bread.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,
Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo
Look! Aren’t his eyes the most wonderful hue?
Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.
The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
But children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.
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