Anyone else, I’d kill.

My son: already uber skilled at making me wish, Forrest Gump Style, that God would make me a bird so I could fly far, far away. 

Yeah. Either that, or just jam a very sharp pencil into my temple.  Whatev.

Braden finds several ways each day to make my soul feel tired, from peeing on every inch of carpet in the house, twice (not so bad, really), to (constantly) SCREEEEEEAMING when things go horribly wrong (like, the world is turning on it’s axis, and stuff), to dragging everything from Room A into Room B, everything from Room B into Room C, and everything from Room C into Room A (seventy-two and a half times a day).

One of my favorite things is when he asks me for something, I rush to get it for him, and then just as I’m GIVING HIM EXACTLY WHAT HE WANTED, he has a Mega-Mega-Ultra-Meltdown.  Complete with running, screaming, stomping, indignant, evil looks and crying real tears.  I mean, how DARE I give him what he asked for?  Am I STUPID? 

The message: “You are evil, Mommy, and you make my life miserable.  It is my belief that you want me to be unhappy.  And you have succeeded.”

I want to bash my head against the wall.  While jamming a pencil in my temple.

Or, you know, if you want to turn me into a bird, God, really, I’m cool with that.

But these are just moments.

The real favorite?  The way he has a knack for driving me nuts while also being so endearingly freaking cute that I can’t stop smiling.

Scenario which is repeated multiple times a day:

He brings me his shoe.

“Dis shoe?”

He wants me to put it on him.

He puts his little butt into my lap and gives me the shoe, staring intently at his little foot. He watches me put the shoe on, sometimes helping by tugging the velcro tabs a bit. He is intense.

It can be dark and cold out.  Doesn’t matter. 

He can be wearing PJs, regular clothes, or absolutely nothing. Doesn’t matter to him.

But he thinks that if he puts on at least one shoe, we’re going outside.  And if one doesn’t work?  Any second shoe will do, my friend.

“Dis shoe?”

*runs to door, pats it*

“Owww-siiiighhhh!”

The scream that comes when we don’t go outside?  I can take it.  Even over and over again. 

I can even love it.