Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Hard lessons

Dear AwesomeCloud,

If you cram both sets of fingers into your mouth while you are walking, and you walk into the raised hearth without looking where you're going, you're going to fall on your face. It's inevitable. It has to do with laws of physics or something.

By the way, nice catch, but next time you might not be so lucky.

Love, Mama.

Today we went to the mall for two hours - from 8:00 AM to the time the stores all opened at 10:00 AM. I don't worry that mallwalking will turn into a shopping spree. For one thing, Cloud doesn't have any patience for Mama trying on clothes. And for another thing, when the stores open, we leave.

He walked quite a bit in those two hours, although he had frequent moments of uncooperativeness and/or going in the wrong direction, so he ended up in the stroller frequently. I'm all right with a little dawdling, but when I'm done dawdling, so is he. Period. Maybe I'm too harsh, but I think I'm awfully permissive.

Today is beautiful and sunny and just lovely all over. (No snow on the Cape! Wahoo!) I went outside to gather kindling during naptime, and it was so beautiful that I decided that when Cloud woke up, I'd take him outside too.

Well, I didn't have long to wait. Apparently somebody wasn't in the mood for naptime, and when I returned to the house, he was wailing like a bainsidhe. He looked like he planned to be in for a serious long-term temper tantrum. But I... I was sunshine happy. So I plunked him on the rug and petted Riley while I waited.

Cloud watched Mama and Cat having a cuddle session without him and began to reconsider. I think he has a jealous streak. It took great effort, but he ended his temper tantrum way early.

So I put his jacket on him and we went outside, walking up and down and up and down the driveway. Then Cloud ventured onto the lawn, which was hilarious. In his Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man jacket and his big double-cloth diaper, when he fell over, he was stuck. Each time, he'd reach his arms up and stare at me, perfectly still, and wait silently for me to rescue him. I thought he would cry again, but he didn't. He just seemed to think, I can't move, so I won't even try. And then trust me to rescue him. Which I did.

Funny how he didn't retreat back to the pavement after the first tumble, though. I guess it's okay to need to trust me.

1 comment:

  1. It's kind of a lovely thing to have a little one trust so ultimately that you *will* come over and pick them up. Sounds like some serious attachment to me! :)