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Love Me. Love My Kid?

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Clicking through MomLogic.com this past weekend, I happened upon yet another “I love you, but I hate your kid” story. (They tend to post these pretty frequently.)


My friendship with Trish wasn’t always so complicated. We had our daughters within several months of each other—bonding over our shared experiences of new motherhood. While Abigail was always a very mellow, easy baby, it became clear early on that Kate was going to be a challenge. She was the type of baby only a mother could love …


From there, the writer goes on to list a series of “atrocities” which don’t really seem that out of the ordinary for a typical toddler. This makes me wonder …


Am I on the receiving end of this article? Is MomLogic trying to tell me something by posting so many of these stories? Could the whole world really revolve around ME and my problems?


Likely, unlikely, and highly unlikely, but still … could I really be THAT friend?


I recently took Avery with me to our friends’ house for dinner. He was being his usual “exuberant” self—running around, touching stuff, dumping out the dog toys, but he was happy and listened when I asked him to stop. I actually thought he was being pretty well-behaved until my friend asked, “Is he always like this?”


The answer is, “No. Sometimes he likes to mix it up and randomly throw things as well.” (Ha!)


At that point, I realized that we had probably overstayed their tolerance for loud and crazy, so we simply packed up and headed home.


I should say that I have really some great friends, all of which seem genuinely amused and entertained by my son. They laugh when he tells stories and play little games with him, but I am sensitive to the fact he’s not their kid and being around that much energy is an acquired taste.


Heck, even I have to tell him, “Okay, please STOP IT,” every once in awhile.


But here’s a little “oh-you-just-wait” to all of you smug “Abigail mommies” out there. My son wasn’t always like this. Oh yeah. He used to be “mellow” and “easy,” too. In many ways, he still is, but the fact remains … and I am in no way making excuses for my son’s behavior when I say this … THE KID IS TWO, ALMOST THREE!


Like most two-almost-three-year-olds I’ve encountered, he has the attention span of a jellyfish (unless of course he’s decides to become obsessed about something which is just as bad, if not worse) combined with the unbridled passion of a performance artist.


The other night after his bath, he threw his (clean) underpants into the tub and turned on the taps. I repeatedly asked “Why, Avery? Why did you do that?”


As he started at me blankly before proceeding to senselessly smear lotion on Mike’s pants, I realized that the concept of “why” was completely irrelevant to him. The idea came to his head so it just HAD to happen.


Geez, what more is there to understand, Mom?


As for play dates, I’m usually at arm’s length to correct or redirect as the situation calls and there is no lack of “time outs” as needed, but I can’t keep him on a leash any more than I can suggest that your kid grow a pair.

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