Feeling down? Hug a Two Year Old

I woke up this morning feeling a little less than chipper. My husband--whom I truly, honestly love and adore--is away at the deer lease. Although I swear I don't mind a bit when he goes to the deer camp, it makes me the adult in charge at our house, which means that when somebody wakes up at 7:30, I'm the one who has to be up with her. Or I'm the one who's going to be the bad parent because I let her cry for 15 minutes. Not that I would do that.

The point is I sometimes wish I had a deer camp to go to. One that has 500 thread count sheets. And massages. And mani-pedis. And room service. And a pool.

Anyway, it was actually Jackson who woke me up this morning. 8:00. We slept in. Which was a good thing, because when Kevin's away, I really have a hard time going to sleep. More often than not it's 1 a.m. or later before I doze off. Which stinks when your kids wake up at the crack of dawn. All I could think about was how I wished I was the one who was at the deer lease...or the dear spa. Sadie woke up soon after--much to Jackson's displeasure.

I wasn't the only grouch in the house.

Anyway, Sadie--being the princess that she is--likes to take her breakfast in bed, get a new diaper, play for an hour or so, and go back to bed. So around 9:30, we all went up stairs to put her highness down for her morning nap. Jackson wanted to go play in the playroom, and I really wanted to go back downstairs to recharge. About a month ago, Jackson would stay upstairs by himself for 20 minutes or so and play, then I would go help him come downstairs. But lately, if I don't stay up there and play with him, he lasts for about a minute and a half. So when I told him I was going downstairs, he pooched out his lip and said sadly, "I go downstairs too."

Meanwhile I was looking for the nearest rock to slither under.

So...I asked him if he wanted me to stay and play with him, to which he replied, "Hooray!"
His favorite thing for us to do is build towers with these huge cardboard blocks. He likes to build towers because he likes knocking them down even more. So that's what we did.

But that's not the good part.

In an overwhelming display of patience, Jackson let me build a tower a foot taller than he is. When he knocked it down, the corner of one block hit his arm, and although we were laughing, he said, "Ow!"

Me: Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?

Jackson: Yes (holds out wrist)

Me: (taking his wrist and kissing the "booboo") All better?

Jackson: I want some more.

Me: (more kisses)

Jackson: It's all better!!

My mood was already on the upswing. After building another super tall tower, he knocked it down, and the bulk of it landed on me. I laughed. He said, "Oh no!"

Jackson: Tower fell down on mama! You okay Mama?

Me: I'm okay. Thank you for asking.

Then the boy who literally wailed when his sister touched his juice cup came over to me, put his arms around my shoulders and gave me a hug. And a kiss. Without prompting. Then he said, "It's all better!" Yep.

Spa-Schma.