I will admit that I was not in my best parenting form last night. I am still battling this cold and I had something funky going on with my eyes off and on all day. It was like black/white strobe lights just outside of my main line of vision. I was chalking it up to hypoglycemia or impending migraine. It made me really sick to my stomach.
Laying in bed last night Christiano was calling me a poo head. Over and over and over again.
Here’s the last part of that conversation.
Christiano: Mommy, you a poo head.
Me: <sigh> Christiano, I am not a poo head. That is not nice. Do not call people poo heads.
Christiano: Mommy, you a poo head.
Me: I am not a poo head. Go look in the mirror.
Christiano sliding off the bed.
Me: No, I didn’t mean go look in a mirror for real. Get back up here.
Christiano: Come with me. I look in mirror.
Me: No Nano, get back up and bed.
Christiano: <crying> I want you follow me. I want to look in mirror.
Me: Nano, get back up in bed.
Christiano: Follow me. <crying> I want you follow me. Follow me. Follow me to mirror.
Me: Nano, if you want to go look in the mirror, go look then come back to bed.
Christiano: NOOOO! I want you follow me.
And so it continued until I was finally able to distract him with getting back up in bed.
Night before.
Christiano: Mommy, I have a booger stuck in my nose.
Me: Great, you going to wait for daddy to get it out?
Christiano: No, I’m going to wait for you to get it out. <giggling>
Me: Don’t you want daddy to do it?
Christiano: No, daddy huuuurrrrrt me.
(Obviously daddy has much bigger hands than mommy. Mommy has dainty little fingers, the only thing left on her that is dainty. If you try with a Kleenex, it’s too big for his little nose. Qtips don’t work as well as the good old pinky finger.)
Me: Where is it?
Christiano: It’s in this nose.
Me: This nose? (as opposed to the nose on the back of his heel I guess.)
Christiano: No it’s in this nose.
Did the job.
Me: All better?
Nano: It’s all gone.
Me: dude, next time you get it out.
Nano: <giggling> Next time you get it out mommy.
Excuse me while I go wash my hands.
Aren’t they fun at this age when they aren’t throwing temper tantrums?
Have a great day!

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