September 27, 2012 by Julia
Two days ago I had the audacity to open the storage closet door in front of Jack, and then close it again before he got a chance to plumb its depths. Now, this closet contains items that most 13-month-old boys dream of: teetering towers of toys, sharp objects to stab with, toxic chemicals, broom handles to assert one’s power with, old mouse droppings to hone his fine motor skills with and then expand his palate with (the mouse is now gone, for the record.)
I basically just gave him a glorious view of his dreams, and then crushed them within seconds.
So he pulled his most heart-wrenching, pathetic move, which is to put his head facedown on the ground and sob. Sometimes he does this while still standing – oh, the dexterity of small children. But this time he was in full on collapse mode.
I decided to continue the action that I had begun, which was to put away my armful of random crap, and gave him a throwaway, “Ohhh, sorry, Jack…” as I kneeled on the floor a couple of feet away.
Not good enough, Mom. He dragged his head – heavy with sorrow – across the floor and planted it on my lower back. I swear, it was so funny and cute and it totally worked.
Sometimes you just need to cry ON someone.