Perspective

This may sound hypocritical/bipolar/whatever after my loving "potty training" posts, but Hamilton is driving me nuts. Too much energy, too few naps (although some...thank you Tootsie Roll bribes), too many glass shattering screams, way too much attention to Beckett, too little sleep for me, and so on. I keep expecting this intensity to die down, as ups and downs of parenting do, but it seems were stuck in "flow" with nary a glimpse at "ebb." My temper is getting shorter and my desire to chuck him out the window growing. Not a great place. However (and, luckily, there is usually...eventually...a "however" in the trenches of motherhood), I had a couple moments today that helped me see the bigger picture.

The Post Office

Really? A positive experience at the post office? Well, Hamilton was crazy, naturally. Running around, pulling out mailing supplies, and enjoying the possibilities a wall of greeting cards offers. Luckily, there were only a couple other people in there, and they happened to be mom veterans. So, rather than looking shocked and judgemental, they had knowing smiles. The woman in front of us kind of laughed, remembering "those days." Her son is now driving himself to swim practice. The other woman, a grandmother now, assured me that Hamilton and Beckett will be buds one day...it would seem like it happened magically over night. She also offered a "good for you" for electing to be a mom at all, not like many people who don't want to consider kids until their 40s. Sidenote: I especially liked that bit because it made me think she thought I was younger than I actually am.

A needed reminder that kids are actually pretty funny and do eventually grow up and that being a mom is worthwhile.

Car Conversations

A woman in the ward has been in the hospital the last couple days with her two and half year old son. They came home today, and I was bringing them dinner.

Hamilton: Where are we going?
Me: We have to go to the store, grab something from the house, and then take someone dinner.
Hamilton (crying): I just want to go to Hamilton's house!
Me: Well, a little boy in our ward has been sick, and I want to do something nice for him and his family.
Hamilton (concerned): Is it Kieran? Is Stockton sick?
Me: No, no. They're ok. The little boy's name is Hunter.
Hamilton: Oh.

After dropping dinner off, I get back into the car...

Hamilton: Does Hunter feel better now?
Me (heart squeezing): Yeah, I think that made his family feel a little better.
Hamilton: Is his family sick too?
Me: No, but sometimes when little kids are sick, mommies and daddies get tired and sad too.
Hamilton: How do kids get sick?
Me: [some germ talk tied into encouraging all the hand washing we're doing lately]
Hamilton: [begins a complicated "germ tale" from his past]

It's so easy to forget he's a little person when he's pushing every button I have. Conversations like this not only remind me of that, but also show me how much that mind of his is thinking and growing.

Love him.