Tidbits

Kev was putting Henry down for bed the other night so I said my goodnights to him and sat down to read, wondering how long it would be before he finagled his way back into the living room. Sure enough, out he trundled as I heard Kevin pleading with him to return. He toodled around a little and stood in front of me. He stared, and waited. I looked up at him. He was holding his monkey, a book, and a blanket.
"What are you doing?" I ask peering at him over my book.
"I had to get this book, my sweetie heart, and the book so Daddy can read it to me."
Now, it's likely that that isn't where it ended - he probably continued to chatter at me about whatever, but he had me at "sweetie heart".

----

The other night Henry informed me that he had pooped and that he was in discomfort. While this is relatively unusual, it's a sign of diaper rash. So, we hustled back to his room to change his diaper, and I was surprised to see that in fact, he hadn't pooped, and there was no diaper rash per se, but that the diaper had rubbed the inside of his thigh and that was pretty pink.

I said to him, "Oh, I bet you have a little burn," which I realize now is about as clear as mud to anyone, let alone a toddler.
And, he replied, "It's not a burn, Mama, it's diaper mash."
He just makes me giggle and giggle.

-----

I got a time out last night.
I swear to God, I didn't do anything to deserve it.
Here's how it happened:
Henry and I were tussling, gently, and I had him "in my powerhouse and he could not fire escape" (this is, in all reality, probably the problem and the reason for my punishment), and the next thing that I know is that he announces to me that I hit him in his face (later the story blossomed into my hitting him in his eye -- TOTALLY UNTRUE). So, I'm sitting there looking at him thinking, did I hit him? I didn't hit him... He's not upset or crying - and I've had my eyes on him this whole time --- and I think, he's pulling my leg.

Ok, I think, whatever. So, I allow him the "fire escape" and apologize if I hurt him, at which point he launches into a lecture about how I need a time out because hitting is "really not nice" and I have to stay on the couch for 2 minutes until he tells me I can get up. (He had his pointer finger out and everything - just like I do it). So, off he goes to go play by himself.

I lay there for a moment, but clearly not long enough to properly devise my strategy because I start yelling, "Come talk to me, come talk to me!" (just like he does), So, Henry, being the sweetest, most giving person I know, marches right over, announces to me what I did that I should be gravely sorry for (just like I do) and says, "Are you going to do it again?"

No, I say sheepishly (even though I didn't do it). "Ok," he says quickly. "You can get up."
Well. That's NOT the way I do it.
"Wait," I say, thinking more strategically now. "Shouldn't I still get my 2 minutes?"
"Ok," he happily agrees.

I lay there on the couch thinking about how little I get to do this, and how I have just been given the best gift in the world.

(However, I should add, that he made me stay there somewhat longer than 2 minutes and it did occur to me that the punishment was harsher than warranted - considering that I didn't do it!)