No one warned me. They said it would be difficult, but no one warned me about THIS! Nobody told me children can send you to the brink of insanity and back, as if they have secret strings attached to your emotions. My two-year-old is already a master puppeteer—he seems to enjoy it, too!
I have a two-year-old boy! Mothers with sons, you know exactly what I am talking about—destruction! It's not all bad, though, he can also be the sweetest little thing in the world. Take the other night, for example:
My husband and I were watching a movie with our son, when our little guy turned to me and cooed, "I love you, Mommy."
"Aww, I love you too, buddy." I said back affectionately.
These are the moments I live for, I thought to myself—the moments that make everything worth while. Then he leaned over, squished my cheeks together with his little hands, and gave me a big kiss.
"Thank you, buddy!" I said again.
Then he leaned over once more and squished my cheeks in his hands. I closed my eyes, waiting for another kiss, when BAM! He head-butted me right in the mouth! I glared at my husband—who watched the whole thing and was laughing hysterically—as I made my way to the bathroom. A look in the mirror revealed a swollen, bleeding lip. Little bugger!
The truth is, nobody warned me, except my husband, who has three children from a previous marriage. Of course, I didn't believe him. For some reason I never think he knows what he is talking about. In response to my protests, he just smiled and told me, "You'll see." I remember thinking, I'll show you and that smug little smile. To my dismay, he was right, which only makes the situation worse. I hate when he's right.
Printer-friendly version