No Sympathy From this Mom

Timothy loves to be chased. He runs the track through the kitchen, around the stairs, into the living room and passed the dining room. If someone is willing to pursue him, he can keep this up for hours. His love of the great chase carries over to anytime I need to get him into his coat, feed him a meal, or change his diaper. Basically, anytime I need to pick him up.

Yesterday the need arose to pick him up. So, he took off. He did a fast lap around the family room and dove onto the couch. There he writhed his little two year old body as if he were a worm or break dancing. I proceeded to scoop him up. He bucked his head and got me in the lip. This happens about once per week but that doesn't make the swelling or the blood any less real.

After a quick yell, I controlled my temper and went about our business. When I had calmed down enough to talk with him, I told him that he can't behave that way. That I knew he didn't mean to hurt Mommy but he did. Without ever looking up from the Matchbox car he was holding, he replied, "You'll be OK, Mom."