Thursday, November 24, 2005

*Little blue comes pats me on the knee*

I'd give the usual mushy stuff about how thankful I am, but you know what it is, what it sounds like, and by now can count on all your fingers, toes, and thumbs how many times you heard it today.

If I know you, and you know me, I'm thankful.

One thing I was thankful for today that stood out, involved, as do most of my posts, Little Blue. Did we have a good day? Yes. Did he eat like a good boy? Yes. Did I sneak him some ice cream off of my pumpkin bomb? (omg Pink! Damn good!) Yes. Did we split a couple sweet bread rolls? Yes. Did he have fun playing/observing his cousins. Yes. All in all, it was a perfect day.

But what struck a chord in me, is that every time we attempted to use the big boy potty...lets just say by the time we were done, I was sweating and he was crying, snot coming out of his nose like a flood, eyes all glassy with streaks down both sides of his face, and usually screaming/shouting phrases such as:
  • I no want to potty
  • I no want to make poo poo
  • I no need pee pee
  • I don't like you
  • You mean (usually followed by an upraised fist, but he never hit!)
  • Mulitply x4 times throughout the day.
By the end, I was exhausted, and he didn't want to have much of anyone or anything.

But all day, no matter how many times I had to wash snot that was up to my elbow, or try to wrestle with him to stay on the potty...

At least every 10-15 minutes, he'd travel between upstairs and downstairs, unsupervised, to make sure he know I was around. Sure, he'd come play with cousins or a toy, and I didn't always catch his eye, but sure as pie, he'd come check up on me. Sometimes he'd come tap me on the knee and I'd give him a hug and a kiss, he may have pointed to the TV and I pursuaded him into raising both arms for a "touchdown!", or he'd just walk by and I'd just watch clockwork, for 5 hours today, he was checking up on me. I didn't care that he's been using me as a HazMat clean up crew for a week, and he didn't mind if he was toddler cussing me out 10 minutes ago as we wrestled to keep his bottom on the toilet...Little Blue was checking up on me.

Small things people...small things. Those big dreams you wish and dream for don't come around very often. Small things, like being checked up on by a 23 month old...

No words can describe it.

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