I think that the hubs might have maybe, just maybe, gotten his feelings hurt tonight by his son. He denies it, but I did catch the phrase "Fine" (yes, uttered exactly as you imagine it) leaving his mouth in response to T's tantrum tonight.
Not that I blame him. When T denies me my much-deserved lovin' (that yes, I feel entitled to because I AM his momma), my feelings get hurt too.
When I got home from Zumba tonight, T was in the best mood. Running around and giggling. Freely giving snuggles and hugs and kisses. Splashing in the bath. Love. Every. Bit. Of. It. And then he randomly switched it off. Out of nowhere. It became a toddler-terror zone. A friend of mine recently referred to her child as "Jekyll and Hyde" and I got a good giggle out of it with her -- and how quickly I have learned I have one of my own.
Our strict routine, which T loves, he totally threw out the window. T didn't want his dad taking him out of the bath, doing his part of the getting ready for bed, or reading his bedtime story and putting him to sleep. The hubs ALWAYS does these parts. And the bedtime story is his special one-on-one time. Until tonight, when T insisted that I did it all. Now, we both know that this little freakout is probably just a one-time thing. Since I was at class tonight, he probably just needed a little more momma time before bed. That, and pissing his daddy off (to the tune of huffing a "Fine. Whatever, dude. That is not nice.") is a surefire way to declare his independence.
It's quite possible that I can see what my toddler sulking is going to look like down the road by looking at my hubs tonight. Poor hubs.
poor hubs. G also refused Ben putting him to bed last night. I even left the room and let him cry for a while thinking that once dad started reading books things would settle down. Wrong. Mama sometimes just has the touch.
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