On the Other Hand

Yesterday as I was changing his diaper, Miles looked up at me, brown eyes shining. Dark, curly lashes blinking, framing his innocent face. Sometimes when I look deep into those beautiful eyes, my heart almost skips a beat. I am overcome in love for him. And then:

"Momma, I don't like you anymore".

It stung. Probably more than it should have given his temperment of late. We are deeply embedded in the terrible twos. Tantrums and tears have become the rule rather than the exception.

Then today as we were leaving Kindermusik:

"That was awesome, Momma."

"It was awesome Miles. You were awesome."

"I was a rock star Momma".

"yep."

"I wuv you Momma.....so much."

And so it goes. I know his moods are dictated by his need for control. Apparently that includes the right to change his mind.

And that is the way we roll.