Had one of those mornings that reminded me of the joys and frustrations of parenthood all in about 30 seconds. I had just put Ben, who’s 10 months, down on the floor in his bedroom while I was getting dressed in our bedroom next door.
Julia, who’s 3, remains obsessed with The Nutcracker music and can listen to it day and night. Sadly, we had left her CD of the music in the car the other day, and at the same time, my iPod, which has the music on it, was not charged so I couldn’t play it in her room. She stood at our desk with the computer whining about wanting to hear the music in her room, so she could dance there. I kept repeating how it was not possible, how my iPod wasn’t charged and we left the CD in the car, but it was going in one ear and out the other and the tears just started flowing and the foot stomping began.
Here we go. Tantrum City.
But just then, from around the corner of the door, I see this tiny hand appear and then the arm, and Ben’s head. He has just started crawling, and so this was a big deal for him. He went from his sitting position to his tummy and just willed himself all the way into our room. And when he got there, he had a big smile and just rested his head on the floor as though he’d just crawled a marathon.
It was funny and sweet and momentarily distracted me from Julia’s waterworks. I finally made her happy by moving my desk chair to the side and clearing space for her to dance to the music in my room while my iPod charged. And Ben just watched.
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