Yesterday was a rough day. I had a little boy pushing my buttons and walking the fine line. I said some things to James about him that I truly didn’t mean. My patience wore thin. We talked about this many times before my pregnancy with Carter ended. Both of us are well aware that his independent playing skills are greatly lacking. He needs constant attention. He has pretty much been an only child for almost three years. He loves spending time with us. We knew that when the attention had to be shared, to be spread out and distributed equally to our new addition and him alike, that we would probably see some ugly days. Many tears were shed. I felt like I was nagging him all day. Don’t do this. Don’t do that. I think I heard the word, “why?” come out of his mouth about two thousand and one times.

Today is a brighter day though. Both boys are napping, so I have a quiet moment to steal away and journal here. A little time to process the good of the morning. We spent some time playing with a few things that Brayden chose. We went for a walk in the gorgeous weather. I tried not to let the dirty mounds of snow put a damper on my mood. I rolled my pants up so they wouldn’t get muddy from tromping through the mucky sidewalk.

The joy of parenting a two year old came back, pushing away the patience issues that I am struggling with, and helping me remember how much I adore my little boy as he runs a few feet, squats down and proudly announces, as if it’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen, “Look, mommy! A stick!” Then he picks it up and whips it as far as he could, as any offspring of his daddy would do. Pinecones were met with equal enthusiasm. He wanted to chase the birds. To jump in the puddles. I wanted to giggle at my giddiness. Carter slept the entire time. What a good little boy.