Saturday, February 18, 2012

Lessons from Peter, age 19 months

This morning Peter and I went to donate my hair to Locks of Love, as part of a fundraiser for Camp Good Days. I brought him along because I needed to leave soon after he woke and I didn't want my absence to make his morning miserable. I'm not sure it helped. He was wide-eyed through the entire ordeal and would not be separated from me by inches, even to eat cereal with my best friend, whom he likes. (He even calls her by name!)

Not my best shot, but you get the idea.
And I didn't color it, it's still reddish, not whatever odd color is showing here.

We arrived around 8:30, my haircut probably happened around 10. The time for us to reveal our new haircuts kept getting pushed back, so we stayed until 12:45. By this time, he had eaten the banana and cereal I packed for him and used up both clean diapers. We were past ready to leave.

Peter fell asleep in the car. We picked up my husband and drove up to my parents' house to take a walk with my Dad to the local craft/hobby shop. Peter was pretty stoic about the whole thing, until he saw the play train tables. He was enthralled. He played happily through the whole visit and tried to take a train car with him when we said it was time to leave.

"Peter, the train needs to stay here. We can't take it with us." He turned around, immediately replaced it on the table, then burst into tears. He wasn't angry, he didn't resist comfort from us, he was just heartbroken about losing his new toy.

Tonight, he was all smiles and hugs and kisses. He played in his bath, snuggled before bed, and fell easily asleep.

Wouldn't it be great if we were all so forgiving?

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