It’s possible my kid is developing into a master manipulator. I’m not up on my child psychology, but I feel like this is part of the “threenager” characteristics I’ve been warned about.

A crisis was brewing because the mini Thomas the Train was missing. We went back and forth talking about how he could just be content playing with the other mini trains he had in front of him and about how Thomas must still be in the toy bin in the basement. Without missing a beat he responded with “Mommy, you get it? You take care of me?”

You take care of me….oh gah!

“Okay buddy! Mommy take care of you! Mommy take care of you forever!”

My husband is part Italian. He is an emotional being. He loves to feel all the feels and loves physical affection. I’m part Norwegian. I suppress emotion. I hate feeling all the feels and I’m not even a super big hugger. Lots of times I want to slap the emotionally-wrecked back into whack. I’m basically part Vulcan. When we talk about what movie to rent he votes for romantic comedies or love stories. I want me a little world destruction, some humor, or a good sci-fi. And if the plot line starts leaning towards the softer side I’ll get out my nail polish or hop on Pinterest so I can multi-task my way through any potentially emotional scenes.

Side note: I’m probably more Vulcan than I think because I went through a huge stage in junior high where I hated having my ears exposed, so all hair-dos had at least the tips of my ears covered. Oh…and I wore so much foundation because I didn’t want any of my freckles to show through. So my skin looked very Vulcan-ish. And let’s talk about my bangs when I was in early elementary school……….

Anyways.

Now that I’ve had kids I’m a puddle. I can’t tell you how many times I rocked my oldest to sleep and just cried as I watched him sleep because I didn’t know what else to do. It’s such an overpowering sense of love. It’s awesome to end a day on that note since some days I’m the one crying and the overpowering sense I have is a little darker than love. I’ve decided that my daily nightcap, regardless of how the day has gone, needs to be Coco Roos.

Today my Bubs was reading to his baby sister out of the tiny, light blue, New Testament Bible he got when he was dedicated at church. Lots of what he said was gibberish, but I picked up on “Cheesus” (Jesus), “story time” (we went to the library today), and some Daniel Tiger ramblings.  Such a precious sight. Such precious innocence.

So when he says “You take care of me?”, manipulation or not, my answer is going to be yes. Yes sweet boy. Yes.