Soften

At this stage in the game, the hardest part of parenting--for me--is being the bad guy.

So when we told Will no books before bedtime tonight as he did things two-year-olds do (including but not limited to jumping on our bed like a monkey butt naked, refusing to put on pajamas, and overusing the word "no"), we shuffled to the family room as he cried for us from his bed.

"Want to read books mommeeeeeeee!"

We went back in, said we were sorry the evening ended this way, but we stuck to our guns. We gave hugs and kisses, and we again shuffled back to the family room.

Why is it so hard to do the right thing? Why is it so difficult to make points, teach lessons? And why must this only be the beginning?

So when the cries turned to just little moans, I broke down. I crawled into his bed. I nuzzled into his pillow right along side him, and I rubbed his back until he fell asleep.

Because this mom has a soft spot, and while Will is quick to forgive at two, I know he won't be so much so at sixteen. It's then that I hope he remembers how much his mom loves him.

It's then that I hope I remember when to stay strong, and when to soften.