Lately Zeke has been a handful. And not a fun one. He's testing me, testing my authority, and pushing the boundaries every chance he finds. For one, he likes to wear his winter gloves in the house and pretend they're boxing gloves. This doesn't amuse me. It mostly doesn't amuse me when the winter gloves go on and he starts boxing me while I'm trying to cook dinner, type on my blog, talk on the phone, or simply live my life. Another time the gloves bother me:
He enjoys eating with his gloves on. And his Incredible Hulk hat on. And apparently not much else. I swear, this kid DOES have clothes. Lots of them. In fact, it's tough to get his dresser drawers shut sometimes when I'm all caught up on the laundry. But, Zeke likes to accessorize his birthday suit most times. And I've learned something in the 3-plus years that I've known him: don't sweat the small stuff. Unless it's going to inflict severe bodily injury (and it must be really severe, as in: severed limb, concussion, loss of consciousness, or involving the loss of many pints of blood...you get my drift), I will not argue with The Toddler. Here's how it goes in my world with The Toddler: "oh, you don't want to put on your winter coat even though it's -36 degrees out with gusty winds, hail, and drifting snow? Ok, when you get cold, I'll have it waiting." It's just not worth the argument. And for him, my lack of reaction takes all the fun out of the game. So, he wears the hat and gloves at meal times. And he actually gets cold sometimes when he tries to push my buttons and refuses the coat. All in all, he's still healthy and growing and thriving. It's me I'm not so sure about sometimes...
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