Most mothers probably think their sons are amazing. However, mine actually is. (I’m only half joking).

Yesterday, Will was having a bit of a hard time corralling his emotions. He’s had a cold for a few days and was getting stir crazy. He approached Ellen, and, to get some attention, he was a bit rough with her. This isn’t normal for him. Both Steve and I were in the room, and each tried first to verbally redirect him. He didn’t respond, so I had to physically remove him from Ellen’s area. I said, “That’s too bad” (said sincerely without sarcasm) “I think I’ll have to ignore you for a while.”

[I probably need to explain the above approach – its my version of a “Love & Logic” quiet-time/timeout. Physical/spacial timeouts don’t work with Will because he won’t stay in a separate room/location and I don’t want to lock him in his bedroom, and I’m trying to model the “Love & Logic” guidelines which are (essentially) a)offer only one “chance” to correct behavior, b)express empathy for misbehavior without hysteria, and c)delivery consequence. So – instead of a physical timeout which is the method recommended for under 3’s, I use an interaction timeout with Will].

Will sat on the couch for a few moments, then stood up, walked after Steve and said sincerely, “Sorry, Daddy.” Then came back to the room Ellen and I were in, hugged me and said, “Sorry, Mommy” then went to kiss baby Ellen’s head and “Sorry for pushing, Ellen.”

And we had a wonderful rest of the evening.

Will isn’t even 3 years old yet. I know ADULTS who aren’t as mature as that.

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I’ve mentioned before that Ellen makes my scalp crawl – I SWEAR she understands everything she hears. I SWEAR it. And the only reason she isn’t talking back is lack of physical development of her throat/mouth, not lack of cognitive ability.

I can’t describe how I know this. I just do. Its in her eyes.

She reminds me of a character in the science fiction book “DUNE” – a little girl who is the daughter of a priestess and has incredible mind reading powers.

I’m committing the ultimate “get your baby to sleep through the night” no-no and sleeping with Ellen snuggled into my arms some nights. If she is my last baby, I don’t want to lose that opportunity forever any sooner than I have to. That precious velvety head and those little mews.

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Eat well is going very well so far this week. I’m very pleased with how I feel.

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I was going to write about how I keep trying to find a way to convince myself that America doesn’t, in fact, hate women with a bizarre sort of virulence, and I can’t, and it made me so sad that I wanted to focus on my babies. So I did.