speaking of gratitude

I'm glad it's Friday. It's been a week of trials for this mommy, and her floors. So far this week has seen a canister of oats, a canister of pasta, a tube of desitin (on carpet!), a bowl of Cheerios and assorted contents of my spice drawer. All. Over. My floors. Did you know that diaper cream is stubborn? 

Oh the drama of our (what a relief) textbook case of the terrible twos. Something I once considered an exaggeration. Really, it's like all the "experts" have been secretly videotaping our child and documenting his behavior because M fits every description of this stage. Every one, precisely. Defiance. Sweetness. Aggressiveness. Snuggling. Curiosity. Fear. Joy. Trauma. Screaming. Whining. Sobbing. Giggling. Conversing. Singing. It's a roller coaster of a learning curve for parent and child, amplified by visits to the doctor's office with mommy or spending 2 1/2 hours at Sam's Club waiting for the tire shop to repair 1 tire. (Fun for both of us). His efforts at being good are very apparent, and I love to praise him generously for those efforts--especially in trying circumstances: "I'm a good boy, Mommy!" he proudly exclaims. He really can be so charming and irresistible. 

With the flip of a switch, though. he turns into an absolute terror.  It's like he's a wild animal that can sense my weakened condition and uses it to his advantage. Yesterday, I was on the verge of tears by 2pm as nothing could pacify, entertain, please or comfort my little guy.  So I express gratitude for mellow weekends and happy mornings like today, which was 80% better than yesterday.  And I will weather this little storm of willfulness (that's a good thing, right?) I will marvel at the elasticity of my patience and the overwhelming delights (honestly) of toddler-rearing.