A hundred and one pounds of fun...

Any parent gets tired, frustrated, worn out.  Kids aren't easy and you don't get time off.  No sick days, no vacations.  No matter how tired and frustrated you are, you can't just walk away.  Sometimes, you really just can't wait until you get to hand your adorable kiddo off and let them be someone else's problem.  Of course, that someone else is usually their other parent, so if you're a single mom there isn't someone else coming home for you to hand them off to. 

No matter how trying Cole can be, I know for a fact that things (eventually) have to get better.  So despite knowing that I'm stuck with dealing with all the frustration and misbehaviour on my own, I know that at some point in the nearby future, I'll get reminded of why it's all worth it.  I just have to wait. 

Yesterday was that day. 


Not that there haven't been lots of wonderful things all week.  Not that he hasn't been good.  But yesterday was different.  Maybe it had less to do with him and more to do with me actually having a day off and getting some sleep. 

Yesterday Cole helped paint my front door and did a fine job. Yesterday Cole pretended to run a delivery service from underneath my antique sewing machine, only after asking if it was okay for him to use the foot pedal as his "factory".  Yesterday Cole walked through Wal-Mart pretending to be a Cyberman.  Yesterday Cole walked through Wal-Mart singing "A Man's Gotta Do" from Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog.  Yesterday Cole successfully negotiated with me to be paid two dollars to clean my car.  Yesterday in the car Cole sang portions of both "I Was a Teenage Anarchist" and "Honeybun" (from South Pacific), with no accompaniment.  Yesterday Cole reminded me of his love for Inspector Gadget cartoons and Doctor Who.  Between yesterday and Thursday, Cole washed 2 boxes of dishes - he just kept asking for more dishes to wash! 

Some of those things are kinda a big deal for a four year old.  Some of those things probably seem pretty pointless.  Some of those things are rather downright geeky.  But all of those things reminded me of just how stinkin' proud I am of my kiddo. 


Me:  How old do you think Gran is?
Cole: Twelve. 
Me: How old do you think I am?
Cole: Twenty. 
Me:  If Gran is my mother, how can she be younger than me?
Cole gives me a look as though I am completely daft.
Cole:  God made her that way.