Sometimes the Answer is Yes

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Our favorite education and toy store is closing by the end of the month. We are a bit bummed out, but have definitely taken advantage on the great discounts on various games and educational materials. 

And apparently toys.

Sweet M is walking. Like full fledge, here comes baby Godzilla, walking.

It’s amazing and adorable and exhausting. It’s really helping him live up to his middle name of Mayhem. 

He’s also recently began this back arching, tantrum throwing amazingness that I don’t recall his older siblings doing quite this young. 

Alas, they both also waited until 10 months before they started walking. So there is that. 

Yesterday I took him in for a cold he’s not been able to overcome, just to find out the cold isn’t worrisome, but he does have a double ear infection. Oy vey.


Well, today Miss H took a mental health day from school and we headed over to our little teaching store that’s closing to see if there was anything left that might be useful for us. 

And Sweet M spotted it. Colorful, annoying it. You push it and it rolls and makes noise and is apparently very desirable to 9 month olds, even if their mommas don’t share that love. 

As I went to check out, I helped to release it from his grip, but he was having none of it. He held on steadfast, he flung backwards, and he shrieked. 

So I smiled, tickled his belly, and told the cashier to ring it up as well. 

She chuckled and said, “I know who’s boss in your family.”

Mr. B quipped, “Yep, he’s the boss baby!” (like from the book) and I just smiled sheepishly.

I hate the idea of “boss” in general. It makes me think dominance and power. And I don’t see myself in those positions over my children. 

Teacher, guide, helper, equal: yes.

Some days I say yes. Many days I say no. And my kids know that.

Will Sweet M get every thing he wants just because he touches it and screams? Heck no.

But sometimes will he? Yes. And as he gets older I will help him learn how we ask kindly for something. I will also help him learn how to handle big disappointment when the answer is no. That even means sometimes I will let him scream and cry those big feelings out without admonishing him for them, because I know he doesn’t have the ability to better handle them yet.

I can’t always say yes. I can’t always afford to say yes. Not just financially, but mentally for myself (I can’t stand clutter), as well as for their entire character of who they will be: it’s pivotal that they learn they cannot have everything they desire. They must learn to handle disappointment and accept “no” as a complete answer, not a bargaining word.

But sometimes. Just sometimes. The answer gets to be yes, too.

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