Late Days

Once a week, I work a later shift from 11:30-8. It’s not my favorite thing to do, because by the time I get home, all I want to do is eat something and go to bed, but I do get to spend the mornings with my favorite little man. There are usually stories to tell from this time together, and today was no exception.

1. Being that it was my late day, it was dark and rainy out, and I haven’t been feeling well this week, I fully intended to stay in bed when I heard Kevin get up at 6. However, Cole had a different idea as he jumped on my head and grabbed me around the neck saying, “Get up!” Thanks to my husband for bringing him into our room.
2. Cole’s breakfast food of choice today- marshmallows. This is what he asks for every morning. And he must know it’s wrong, because he asks in this dastardly little voice with an evil look on his face and what “scheming villain hands.” Today he had applesauce and strawberries. Then I gave him marshmallows.
3. I had laundry that needed to be folded, but as Cole is obsessed with lacrosse lately, he didn’t understand why I couldn’t drop everything to play with him. He would hand me the stick and throw me the ball and then I would put the stick down while he chased the ball (because he kept missing me). But if I didn’t pick that stick right back up, he would freak out. Fun.
4. I’m trying to give my son choices in life to give him the opportunity to decide for himself. I’m not really sure if this fosters independence or decisiveness or what, but it seems like something that I should be doing. So, today, I gave him a choice of a lacrosse shirt or a Diego shirt- currently his 2 favorite things. It took a good 30 seconds of contemplation. But in the end, lacrosse won!
5. Since I have to work late tonight, Cole will be going to lacrosse practice with Kevin. (Noticing a theme here?) Well, he loves going, so I told him about it. Then I said that it was time to go to school. “No, crosse,” he told me. Oh, man, I confused him. “Yes, Bud, you have lacrosse, but not until later when Daddy gets home.” This was followed by crying and yelling and throwing himself on the floor. Bad Mommy.
6. When we walked outside, I had no idea just how nice it would be. We both had on jackets, but as soon as I got in my car, I took mine off. Which Cole naturally questioned. “Jacket off?” I told him that yes, I had to take off my jacket because his baby sister was making me hot. A few minutes later when we got to daycare and I went to get him from the car, he said, “Baby sister hot. Let me check.” Then he proceeded to lift my shirt, stare intensely, and then kiss my belly. My sweet boy.

Just another day in life with a 2 year old.

Magic

Being a mother, especially of a little boy, I know that I will have to get used to the fact that Cole is going to get hurt.  But, of course, it’s never easy. We have been lucky so far, with only minor cuts and bruises (except for one lacrosse stick injury last spring that left him with a scar over his eye). So when I got home on Thursday night from work, I wasn’t happy to find my little guy sitting on the kitchen table crying, while his daddy fed him candy to try to make him feel better. They had been at lacrosse practice all night, playing around in the mud with no issues. But when they got home, Cole was walking up the steps and fell as he reached the top, scraping his chin and hurting his thumb.

I hated seeing him so upset and it took a few minutes to calm him down, but it wasn’t anything too major. I was definitely more affected than he was. And when he said to me, “Fall. Steps. Boo boo,” it took everything in me not to cry. But my kid is pretty tough and got over it fast.  

The next night, though, we were out shopping, and I noticed that the fingernail on his injured thumb was barely hanging on and thought that it would probably hurt more if he got it caught on something. So in my infinite wisdom, I decided to get it over with and rip it off. Not such a good idea. It was lower than expected and started bleeding. Now, luckily, I had already let Cole pick out some band-aids. (They had Care Bears and Bratz, so I steered him towards Care Bears.) Now, how to get him to let me put it on. I pushed the cart carrying my crying son into an empty aisle and opened the box. I explained how Mommy had “magic” that was going to make his boo-boo all better. He cried louder and tried to hold his hand away from me, but I finally managed to (sloppily) get the band-aid around his thumb. He cried and yelled more, and I soon found myself walking around the store, carrying my 2 year old as he buried his face into my neck.

For the rest of the night, Cole treated his hand as if it was broken. He refused to use it and held it out, away from his body, as though it was on fire. Kevin tried to get him to pick things up with it, but he wouldn’t do it. He even held his good hand while giving him books and toys to hold with the injured hand, but he acted like he couldn’t hold on to anything. We were actually pretty amused but wondered how long it would last.

By Saturday, things were relatively back to normal with Cole using both hands. I think he is still somewhat fascinated by the band-aid, but in a good way now. His thumb is almost completely healed, but he still came to me this morning and asked for magic. And I happily gave it to him.

Proudly displaying his Care Bears "magic"