I was at the park last week trying to wear my kiddo out when I saw an epic battle between mother and son. She wanted him to wear a sweatshirt, he didn't want to. I know, huge deal.
He was yelling, she was trying to negotiate. It was this whole huge thing that lasted for way too long. Once she tricked him into putting it on she then had to trick him back into taking it off because we live in Arizona and cold temperatures don't exist. Really, they don't.
It just goes to show that sometimes we pick battles we should just let go.
This has been my biggest realization inside and outside of parenthood the past few weeks. For example--
Nolan loves to paint, LOVES it. But at the end of the day we get home, need to eat, need to take a bath, need to adhere to the rigorous schedule I've put in place to secure a little of my sanity....or else. He is constantly coming up to me with the paint (that he hides) and screams "PAYYYY PAYYYYY," which drives me insane.
Finally I gave in.
I put on Bela Fleck and the Flecktones Pandora radio, stripped him down to his diaper, sat on the dirty balcony and painted with my monster. It made me realize that in those moments I am being the parent I want to be; the parent who doesn't care if their kid rolls around and eats dirt, the kind of parent who listens to music with her kid instead of watching tons of cartoons, the kind of parent who listens to what their toddler wants and does it despite the ever impending doom and struggle that comes with bedtime.
The kind of parent I want to be is always changing. I haven't done this before and hopefully I'll get the chance to do it again because I love it and I'm good at it.
My biggest hope is that we can continue to do things like paint, throw dirt, smash oatmeal in our hair (( and by "our" I mean his )) and be silly together and he will remember that I was the kind of parent that he too wants to be when he grows up.
My little weirdo
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