After Aaron's bath this evening, I was drying him off and, with a grumpy look on his face, he jabbed at me with his shark hex-bot.
I calmly took away the toy, saying, "I'll take that," then struggled a bit to get his pyjama top onto his damp torso. When I gestured for him to step into his pyjama bottoms, he glared at me and refused, saying, "I'll do it when you give me back my shark."
I promised him he would get his shark back after he was dressed.
Then, with a firm-set jaw, he scowled, gritting, "So, is it always going to be your rules then? You're the ruler?"
And this was my moment ... my grand moment ... to choose a new way. And I did. And I am so happy that I did. It wasn't perfect, it was even a bit sloppy (i.e. if I could have the chance to do it over, I might say something different, or mostly just something ... less).
I looked into those angry eyes and assured him, "I'm your mom." The next words that flowed from my lips were purely from my heart ... inspired and definitely not premeditated. "You are the ruler of you. You chose to hit your mom with your toy. What do you think your mom might do if you hit her with your toy?
A3: "Take it away."
Me: "Would you like to have your shark back?"
A3 (nodding, quietly): "Yes."
Me: "What can you do to get your shark back?"
A3: "Say sorry?" And he was sincere.
We slipped his pyjama bottoms on and I handed his shark back to him.
After blow-drying his hair, he hugged me and said, "Mom, I'm really sorry that I tried to hurt you with my shark."
