The Power of a Two-Year-Old

First things, first. I can't believe it's already December 11 and I have not written once. I can attribute much to this delinquency.

Of course there's the constant search for the perfect gifts for my lovely family. I'm actually feeling pretty good about our gift purchasing status at this point. We only have a few gifts left to select and two weeks to do so. We still have to tackle the annual edible gift ... but I'm not going to stress out about it ... at least, not yet anyway.

There's this crazy project at work that I've been dedicating a lot of time to. It's sort of one of those things that by the grace of all the powers that be ... you're able to pull off. Then again, I'm an eternal optimist (because I like to keep things in perspective) so even with the craziest of timelines I always feel like you can do anything you put your mind to. (However, my warning to others is this is not a universal mindset and not everyone has the ebb and flow, course-correct mentality to handle these types of projects.)

There was this little 15-inches of snow on the ground storm (which resulted in my unbelievable sore body for the next two days ... because I decided to use it as an excuse to exercise and did it all with a shovel ... yeah ... D kept telling me "at least it's the good pain.")

But on to the point of this whole post ... most importantly, there's me spending as much time as possible with my boys. The boys did excellent shopping with me this past weekend. In fact, O was in non-typical form. I actually wondered who I had with me they were so well-behaved.

Which takes me to the bedtime routine. Since D gets the joy of the morning routine, it's only fair that I take on the responsibility for bedtime each night. This means ... every night I get to hear O tell me he doesn't love me. You see ... he hates bedtime. He's afraid to miss out on any action ... so going to bed is an ultimate punishment to him ... and since I am the enforcer ... I am the bad, bad guy. So, yes, every night he tells me how he doesn't love me and he only loves daddy. After I read him his story, I tried to plant a kiss on his cheek, but he brushes it away and once again reinforces his non-love for me, stating how he wipes my kisses off ...

Then for the next hour, he stays awake reading books, singing and talking ... anything that is not sleeping. Until it's K's bedtime. Then, suddenly ... and almost magically ... he loves me. He wants hugs, kisses and professes his love ... it's the ultimate manipulation to delay him having to go to sleep. I am amazed at the strategic mind a toddler can possess. It frightens me for what the future can bring ... but at least it will keep me on my toes.