Gabe has gotten a little too relaxed. While working away this morning on the trusty laptop and tending to Anna in random bursts when I would notice she gently toppled over from her big-girl sitting or would shuffle from her padded mat to the oh-so-hard wood floor, I completely lost track of Gabe. As long I could hear "Choo Choo!" in the background or his narrating a play between Thomas and Friends, I knew he was okay.
My house was a different story.
Train tracks covering his bedroom floor. Tracks covering the living room. Tracks in the kitchen. Piles in the bathroom. I was suffocating under plastic track. I lost it.
"Gabriel!!!!!! Clean up this track!!!!!!! It's everywhere!!!!!!! I AM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND, GABE! I AM GOING TO LOSE MY MIND IF YOU DO NOT CLEAN THIS UP! DO YOU WANT ME TO LOSE MY MIND?!"
(for the record, I haven't had a freak-out like this in months, which is kinda saying a lot)
His reply?
"No, Mom, I do not want you to lose your mind!! Don't lose your mind, Mom."
And he promptly began cleaning up the track that had blanketed the house, and threw it all into his room, where it lays in track mountains, which I can deal with a little more calmer tomorrow.
2 comments:
wow i hope you feel bad now.. do you feel good about yourself yelling at a kid whose simple reply is "no mom, dont lose your mind" and kindly cleans it up.. hell when mom flipped on us like that we either laughed or yelled right back.. be glad you dont have use as children lol
he's only 3, where he still has the fear of Mom and Dad. give it a few more years...
Post a Comment