It is 2:10pm. Isaac won't nap. He's been in there for over an hour.
And worse, he's totally figured out how to stall!
"Isaac you must go to sleep," I say as I peep in to make sure he isn't climbing on the walls or doing some dangerous something-or-other. I then begin to shut the door.
"Mommy. Wait. I need ..."
"What do you need?"
"I need ... something," Isaac says in a very sweet, sleepy, cute voice.
"You don't need anything. You need to go to sleep," I say (and begin to shut the door again.)
"No. I do. I need ... a huggie."
Oh geez. Like I can turn that down. "Okay," I say as I cave to his cuteness. "I''ll give you a hug." I do, and then I say, "Okay. Now you need to go to sleep."
"But wait Mommy. Could you stay here with me?"
"No, I can't. You have to go to sleep."
"But could you just hold my hand?" he asks.
Oh for crying out loud. How manipulative and gooey and amazingly intelligent can a two-year-old be? Who taught him how to do this? Of course, I sit there, holding his hand. I then allow him to lead me to his toy box full of stuffed animals so he can pick just one more out to have in bed with him.
When I finally do give in and shut the door, it's only because I was quicker to the draw. I shut before he could come up with something else that would draw me back in.
Isaac is definitely growing up. For the first time in his entire life, he is challenging us. He is starting to talk back, "I don't want to eat those, okay?!"
He has learned how to skirt the truth by answering, when asked why Elijah is crying with, "Because he hurt himself." Asked how he hurt himself? "He got hit." Only when asked what hit Elijah does he finally reply that, "I hit him."
But even though I know he is growing up and getting wiser and becoming more sinful in nature, my love for him seems to double by the moment. By the day. I feel so lucky, every day, that two teenagers saw fit to make me his mom. Truly can there be any better gift?
Sorry. He's calling me again. And if I have to be honest, I know I'll probably be a sucker and be watching a movie with him on the couch before a few minutes have passed.
Love that little boy. Even if he's making me work harder with every day that passes to out-wit him, to out-think him, and to discipline him. My sweet little Isaac.