The glass is half full

Thank goodness you woke up in a much better mood this morning. You woke me up witht the most pitiful cries last night, you seemed to have been picking your nose, which triggered a bloody nose. I hate seeing you uncomfortable or in pain - it actually causes me pain as well. So I calmed you down and coaxed you into leaning your head forward while I pinched the bridge of your nose. I had extreme nosebleeds at your age and until about age 6 - I used to hemmorhage from the nose until the blood vessels were cauterized.

 

Your version of events this morning were, "Fred came into my room. I decided I wanted to play with him! See! I wanted to play with that kitty!" I love how much of an optimist you are, the important event last night was not the fact that your nose bled, but that your beloved cat pushed his way into your room.

Poor Fred...

On our way home today, our chihauhau (Lola) perched in your lap. Michael and I overheard the following conversation:

 

Doodle: "So Lola, did you have fun coming with us today?"

Doodle as Lola: "Nope, I would really rather stay home and chew on my cat."

 

Fred, our cat, is constantly being chewed on by Lola. As with many things, you have begun to copy Michael's Lola impressions.

Thumbs up!

You take after your mummy when it comes to cars. We play Name That Car rather frequently as we drive around town. Your favorite used to be any kind of Porsche, but now you've settled your fixation on Corvettes. You can even recognize the tail lights of a Corvette, in the dark, from blocks away. Today you spotted two gorgeous burgandy Corvettes on the freeway and yelled, "Mommy! I have to give him a thumbs up!" To make your mission possible, Michael sped up so that your open window was even with the driver... The driver quickly spotted your tiny upraised thumb, nudged his wife and gave you a very happy return. I believe he made your day and that you most likely made theirs.

 

*Here is a gratuitous zoo photo... you love the animal statues almost as much as the live things.*

As we drove down the road tonight, you insisted that you were scared of car washes. I reminded you that you are a big brave boy and told you that you are not afraid of anything. To which you replied after a moment's consideration, "Actually, I'm afraid of dinosaurs. But not little dinosaurs."

How to Raise a Strong-Willed Child

As the cashier was ringing up the book, Parenting a Strong-Willed Child, my strong willed child stood in an aisle and yelled "No mommy! I'm not leaving! I am staying RIGHT here!" The cashier very politely pretended not to notice but the other customers alternated between thinly veiled disgust and pity. It's remarkable how much you look like the little boy on the cover. And the fact that you chose that moment to assert your independence was rather amusing. I just smiled at the staring old ladies, completed the purchase, grabbed you by the hand and informed you in a very firm voice that we were leaving.

 

Ah, the joy of having a very intelligent, strong willed little boy. You will be an amazing man who is strong willed in a very positive way, we just have to survive the next 20 years to get to that point.

My protector

You are my laundry helper. Today you escorted me to the laundry room. Since my hands were full, you carried the Dryel bag. You insisted that I walk behind you so that you could protect me from bad guys. Apparently our apartment complex is full of evil men that steal dirty laundry and lavender vanilla laundry detergent. As we walked, you checked every turn to keep me safe.

Seriously serious

Tonight you fought going to bed, as usual, but chose a new tactic. You started yelling, "This is serious mommy!" and "I can't believe you!" 

I am in for some very difficult teenage years.