February 25, 2016

This much

Chunky is employing a new tactic in peruasion. How much do you love me? I heard it last night at the drive-thru when denied his request for ice cream in addition to the overly-processed-but-oh-so-quick-in-a-pinch meal he ordered. I had just spent 90 minutes at the Dr with hubby which was supposed to be an in and out appt so in no mood to do any cooking whatsoever. I heard it at the phone store when the salesperson asked if *he* wanted additional accessories for his new phone. She who pays decides. I hear it constantly when he wants me to make his beloved mac & cheese, because clearly I make it with love which makes it so much better. Barf!

I put forth the following considerations to substantiate my love:
  • He was just under 10 lbs at birth - pushing a watermelon through a cheerio in 10 minutes is indisputable proof of love
  • I read to him constantly, painstakinly selecting books that would stimulate and let him know he was loved and wanted
  • He walked at 10 months - I quit trying to keep up with him and just did my best to keep him out of harms way which was no easy feat
  • I endured daily reports of errant behavior for 6 months from the the montessori he attended before we came to mutual agreement that it wasn't the best environment for him, which then meant my figuring out what was the best environment (God bless home daycares)
  • He was diagnosed with sensory integration dysfunction at two and prescribed weekly occupational therapy visits for an entire year - which I took him to faithfully every Friday morning, working extra the other four days to compensate; it also involved an abundance of paperwork that would deter anyone from parenting
  • I poured over every available schooling option to determine what would be best for him in the long run even if it meant driving great distances and higher out-of-pocket cost; in the end our local parochial school was deemed the best option and was most convenient for everyone
  • I spent every parent-teacher conference asking teachers to focus on the positive; there wasn't anything new to tell me in the behavior/focus department that I didn't already know and experience firsthand on a daily basis since he was one year old Ah, the joy of parenting a spirited child
  • He was diagnosed with ADD at eleven - scores more paperwork and coordinating with teachers, as well as agreeing to be observed and evaluated for parenting issues; semiannual Dr visits for med evaluation and picking up meds monthly because it cannot be mailed or dispensed for more than a 30 day supply
  • I routinely endure being picked up into the air from behind for bear hugs without notice or provocation This may or may not be a hazard to my bladder - see 10 lb reference above
Love cannot be measured objectively and parenting is not for sissies. I've decided though that next time he asks how much I love him I will simply reply "to the moon and back".

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