The day started like any other, he woke needing his milk cup and I needing my dark French roast. Big Daddy leaves for work before the sun rises so B and I generally wake around 8am. I know, cushy, right? Anyway, B is yelling from his bed "miiiiiiilllllk, I want my miiiiiilk mama", as if his legs were broken. I have not had any nectar of the Gods yet (a.k.a coffee) but I try to pretend to be cheerful and walk to his bed so we are not yelling across the house. He looks at me deadpan, before I can utter a syllable and as if it were possible to yell any louder he SCREAMS "miiiiiiiiiiiilk!!!". A disdainful scowl comes across his face that I had never seen his adorable chubby cheeks carry before. I was thrown aback. Was he feverish or ill in some way, I wondered. With genuine concern and motherly love I reached toward him to feel his forehead and he swiveled his perfect little head to try to BITE ME! It is only through the sheer fact that I am an adult and am quicker than a toddler (for a little while still) that I was able to pull my hand away in time to avoid his growling jaw.
He is still supine, if he closed his eyes, he would have appeared to still be asleep. I was flabbergasted into silence. I tried to quell any urge to react. From the zillion megabytes I'd read and listened to about parenting a toddler, I'd found if there's one thing they love, it's a big reaction. If any other human on the face of this earth had tried to bite me I would've laid down the hurt, but this is my baby we're talking about. Not only was I not going to hurt him, I wanted to attempt to guide him in a positive way.
It felt like an hour had passed as I stood there trying to look passé and B glaring at me. The morning light was shining in through the window giving a sort of ethereal haze to the air. B broke eye contact first, good for mama, still the alpha, I'd thought. Then he began to spit into the air and laugh hysterically at the way the spit globules lit up like prisms in the morning sun. Was it an evil laugh, maybe the laugh of a mad scientist making a discovery? I wanted to join in his laughter and deal with the biting attempt later when we were both calm. I bent down to lay my head near his and that little shiitake smacked me so hard across the face it would've made The Housewives of New Jersey proud. He landed it perfectly and it made a CLAP! I wasn't going to be able to hold back a reaction. In about three seconds I was going to lose it. So I removed myself from his presence as quickly and calmly as I could muster.
I closed his bedroom door behind me, walked to the kitchen and began to make my coffee. My mind was reeling and my effin cheek hurt. By the time I had a few sips of my brew and began to breath normally, a smiling, happy-go-lucky B skips into the kitchen. At first I was unsure if he might have a machete or some sort of weapon he fashioned from book bindings and play silks in his room, but no, he was unarmed. He runs to me, I tense up, but he wraps his soft little arms around my legs and says "good morning sunshine" almost in a whisper. Then he looks up and asks in his sweetest voice "may I have my milk in my red cup please, mama ?" I simply nod, still unsure.
What's your morning routine with your toddler?
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