Pages
Popular Posts
-
Turning forty-one has been fabulous and amusing! I have finally learned to relax and not worry so much about some of the trivial things. Unf...
-
Back in December (2013) a 34-year-old South African was in the spotlight for allegedly faking sign language during the memorial for leader,...
-
I was expecting a phone call. Maybe a visit from my administrator. I'd bitten my nails down too far. Not knowing if there would be reper...
-
A glass of wine should be a prerequisite before annual gynecological visits. I've had these visits for years but still haven't gotte...
-
It's unfortunate but we are going to have to make some adjustments to prayer requests and praying with our seven and nine-year-old. Last...
-
Last Sunday we were rushing to get to church. I was in the mirror, as usual, trying to get every strand of hair in perfect position. Trying ...
-
So our oldest will be finishing her last year of middle school this year and our youngest will be starting middle school. Big transition fr...
-
Losing teeth, falling, walking for the first time, potty training,first words, and fathers buying double-barrelled shotguns when it is time ...
-
The more things change, the more they stay the same! Our son may be getting older (11 now) but not wiser. After complaining of sore thro...
-
While cooking and watching The Voice the other night with the family, our youngest was awed by one of the contestants. He commented, "...
Monday, December 04, 2006
Interpretations
Our son is so proud to be a big boy. When we tell him he is being a big boy, it just puts a smile on his face and a spring in his step! When he's told that he isn't being a big boy, he drops his head and cries. You know kids want to please us. We were in a drive-thru getting food and he and his sister were in the back seat fussing over a toy. Daddy and I intervened and took the toy. Our daughter accepted it, but our son had a fit. He slumped down in the seat and screamed. "You aren't being a big boy," I calmly told him. "You better get it together now," daddy added. He just cried louder. By this time we were at the window to get our food. The person at the window slowly gave us our food and peered in the van. "Awww, what's wrong with the baby?" she asked. In an instant, the crying stopped. He rubbed his eyes, looked toward the window and firmly said, "I'm not a baby, I a big boy!" He mumbled something else but we couldn't make it out. Daddy then told him, "That's it. If you can't get it together we aren't going anywhere else. We'll just go back to the crib!" Then the crying and screaming continued and he added kicking. I cut the radio up. I couldn't believe we had to hear all this over a small toy, that they have played with myriad times. There had to be something else going on in his little head. I looked back at him and asked, "Are you still mad about the toy?" He shook his head no. "You don't want to go home yet?" Daddy did tell him that we were going back to the "crib". He wiped his face and said, "I don't wanna go back to sleeping in the baby bed!" I told daddy that he cannot talk like that around the kids- our son had no idea daddy was talking about the house.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Melissa,
I've really enjoyed reading your stories!! Interpretations, owboys, why hast thou forsaken me and I'm sayin---where all great! You're a great writer--very captivating!! I can't wait to read the others!!
Post a Comment