The beginning of the week was a little rough. On numerous occasions I thought, "Wow, Gavin's going to be lucky if he makes it the few short weeks until his 4th birthday." Monday morning started immediately with tears upon his awakening. Why? Who knows, but there were a lot of them. Granted he had spent most of the weekend playing with his cousins and having a ball, so I'm certain he was tired. But his tiredness just translated into him being pretty damn pathetic.
He cried about getting out of bed. He cried about what he wanted to eat for breakfast. He cried about which cartoon he was going to watch. He cried about what he was going to wear to school. When I told him that he needed to go put his socks and shoes on (just as he does EVERY day), he laid on the ground and told me he didn't know how. He had miraculously forgotten how to put socks and shoes on overnight. I informed him that if he couldn't be a big boy and put his socks and shoes on then I was going to throw away his "big boy" toys. So, he promptly sat down, put his left shoe on his right foot, and then tried to put his sock over his shoe. He looked at me and said, "See, I can't do it."
This game persisted for at least five minutes. I spent most of the time rolling my eyes at him behind his back.
Daycare drop-off was another source of drama. He wanted to take his blanket to daycare for nap time (fine). Then, he wanted to wear the blanket over his head as we walked into the room (not fine). When I wouldn't let him, he threw himself on the ground. When I threatened to take away his iPad privileges, he got up, but he refused to open his eyes or detach himself from my leg. When I tried to leave, he clawed at my legs, grabbed my hands and arms, and did everything he could to physically attach himself to me.
And that was only the first two hours of Monday morning. During the next 48 hours, he also did things like wipe his chocolate-covered face on a white t-shirt that was lying on the ground, lick my cell phone, and smear his spaghetti sauce face all over the wall.
At that point, I was fairly certain he would spend at least six months in timeout.
But, he always redeems himself . . .
Poor little Arnie beagle isn't doing well. The vet is ruling out a bulged disc, but something has happened that has made it almost impossible for him to move his back legs. The other possible diagnoses don't look good. When I went to sit on the floor and pet Arnie, Gavin said to me, "Mommy, you need to be careful. Arnie is very sick. You have to pet him very gentle. Don't touch his legs. Just pet him like this." He promptly walked over, gently rubbed the dog's head, gave him a kiss, and told him, "Good boy, Arnie."
It melted my heart, and I instantly forgot about everything naughty thing he had done up until that point. Even when it seems like the devil has possessed him, he has the ability to be the kindest kid I have ever met.
Get thee to an independent bookstore.
56 minutes ago