Today, when I got Caden out of bed and tried to put socks on his feet. He said, “No. Off,” then sobbed. So I took them off his feet, and threw them into the closet calmly telling him that he didn’t have to wear them.
Then, sobbing louder, he ran to the closet, picked them up and threw them. Still sobbing. Running across the room, he smacked me on the arm.
Not cool. So I tried to hold him, and explain he didn’t have to wear those socks, but he was still crying. And smacking me.
It was at this point I grabbed him up, prayed for him, and then tried to find acceptable socks. Mind you, he was still crying.
I found acceptable socks, got him downstairs and tried to put him in his high chair to eat. Screaming again, he spilled food on his shirt, and it was at that point that he really began to freak out.
After some soothing, some cuddles, some stern words about throwing one’s food and hitting one’s mother, we all got fed and calmed and soothed and happy and gave smooches all around. Crisis averted.
All that to say, I’m so glad it’s the weekend starting tomorrow. Phew.