Eventually, Isaac gave in (and I think he liked it, though he wouldn't admit defeat). Brady, however. Oh, Brady. Adam and I are both stubborn people, and I think Brady got both sets of super stubborn genes because he's a master. He wound up with a bite of potato in his mouth, but he quickly tucked it into his cheek (imagine a squirrel with a nut he's going to bury) and lamented our meanness; cried, pouted, kicked, shouted, threw himself on the carpet, and bemoaned his horribly mean parents. (But still refused to chew.) We ignored the show. Then we went for a walk.
We walked for a good 40 minutes, and that kid kept that potato tucked away in his cheek the entire time. Every now and then I heard him make a slurping sound (probably as the potato slowly dissolved and slid down his throat in its liquefied state), but he absolutely would. Not. Chew. When we got home, it was still buried in his cheek. When Adam took the Little Boys up to bed... still had it squirreled away. We finished dinner two hours ago, and it wouldn't surprise me if he still hasn't swallowed that one lowly morsel.
Parenting is freaking hard. I know I feel like I'm doing it wrong all the time, especially when I'm in the ring with the master of stubbornness. But even on an evening as frustrating as this one has been, I'm thankful to be a mom because there are few greater gifts given to us in this life.
And that stubbornness? I'm trying to be patient, because there's no way he'd be that good at it if God didn't have a big plan for it down the line. (At least that's what I tell myself as I sit in the corner deliriously half-laughing and half-eating my own hair.)
No comments:
Post a Comment