The things they say....

Hearing what pops out of P's mouth/head is fabulously fascinating (to me that is, I think waiters, friends etc. find his ramblings slightly less, um, necessary :)) For example, yesterday morning I was beckoned with "Mama, come look! My poop looks like giant asparagus!" And it did.

Then yesterday, after a long afternoon out with friends we were making our way home. His buddy got a huge pretzel from the park vendor and then P wanted one. Because we don't live in suburbia, but daily pass street vendor after store after street vendor in NY, we finally had to decide on a "one treat per outing" limit (except for the grocery store, our bag's the limit there). We Hate limits. They feel, well, limiting :) And they are like a big stop sign for connectedness, but our budget demands Some attention so... We leave the house and P can pick his one fancy from whatever store and all is well. Usually this is a smooth subject. Occasionally there's a little disappointment followed by P reasoning, "Next time!"

But yesterday, it was dinnertime, he was hungry And tired. Silly mommy reminded him he'd already chosen his treat for the day and offered it or any other snack from our bag instead.

Whoops. Massive miscalculation. Beyond Yoav happily chomping on His pretzel, P'd been challenged a Lot at the playground and was less resilient than usual. And did I mention he was tired? Instead of graceful acceptance, or minor disappointment, things went the way of pummel mama and fall apart. It was a sad scene and I validated and hugged and we eventually moved on. Or so I thought. But as we walked the last block home P said "If I kill you guys, I can do whatever I want."

Ouch. I'm sure more experienced parents than I could just nod at this and carry on, but this was the first time P has Ever said anything "mean" to me. And I think I could have easily managed our first foray into verbal anger had it been "I don't like you." But to totally do away with me? Wow. Instead of affirmation of his feelings he received a silent, nauseous mama. I didn't want to shame him for his inability to "properly" reason through his frustration - and I knew I didn't have anything productive to say ;) so I just concentrated on (holding my tears in my eyes and) carrying him, his bike, my scooter and his bag of stuff to the stoop. Then I thought a little humor might help so I turned to him and asked "Really P? Which would you rather have, me or a pretzel?" Big smile from me, the answer so obvious. I can hear my mother cackling. That's right. The three year old chose the pretzel without a moment's hesitation. When he asked me to carry him up the stairs I felt like the three year old - it was All I could do not to suggest his pretzel carry him...

Yah, I guess neither of us were feeling very resilient :) As I started dinner I did the regular routine of offering P objects that would go into the dinner. "Tomato? Olives? Cheese? P?" Instead of teasing me back with his usual response "I'm going to eat ALL of it!" he said "That ok Mama. You guys eat first, I'll just have whatever's left-over." If killing me off didn't break my heart all the way, this finished the job :) Nothing like a three year old trying to make amends the only way he can fathom.

Only time will tell if he was just "off" yesterday, or if he really isn't feeling like his needs are honored enough on a daily basis. I'll be doing an autonomy check around here and hope that any improvements we can manage will keep me alive :)