Bronson has a healthy emotional spectrum. Of course, by that I mean when he’s happy he’s really happy, when he’s sad he’s really sad, when he’s mad he’s angrier than a cat in a bathtub. But I call it a healthy emotional spectrum because I mean it’s mostly okay, good even. He’s a passionate human being, and the world could use a little less apathy.
I think most mothers of toddlers would say their child can go from giggling to screaming or sobbing bewilderingly fast. Today has been no exception for Bronson and I.
We went to a local play time this morning. As soon as we walked in, Bronson clung to me. He wanted the toys, particularly the balls, but he was unsure of the situation, unsure of all the unfamiliar faces. We toddled around, but soon Bronson was the unsuspecting victim of a toddler bully. In the course of an hour, Bronson was pushed over twice and had his ball stole at least five times.
This certainly didn’t help his timidity.
He was hurt, and I was angry and sad for him. My motherly instinct wanted to shove the other kid over in response, but I followed my other instinct since it was a little more appropriate. I picked up Bronson and gave him a compassionate hug. His eyes frowned, his lips straightened, and he looked at me for an explanation. I only wish that I could explain how people don’t always treat others the way they deserve. It wasn’t his fault.
After we left, we ran a few errands. My heart still brimmed with sadness for my son, but of course, the tides shifted.
The meltdown started at the credit union. It overflowed as we drove to the card store. It erupted in full force with many eyes watching. Loud wailing, head thrown back in defiance, stomping of feet when I tried to set him down. I could hardly believe this was the same child I had in my arms less than an hour ago. But then again, just 10 minutes earlier I was feeling sad for this little guy. Now I was furious with him.
Most days are a roller coaster of emotions and experiences. Many moments of losing my stomach, throwing my hands in the air, or clenching tight to what’s in front of me. Just like a thrilling roller coaster, being a mom is an adventure filled with many highs and lows and crazy drops and climbs in between.
But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
(Well, I would like him to keep his tantrums to himself. 🙂 Someday, I hope.)