like mom, like son

My oldest son, Cole, will be six in June. We are really enjoying this age because he is usually very reasonable and easy going. But the other day I saw a side of him that reminded me that he is, for sure, my child. There was no switch at the hospital.

We were walking home from school, which is about a two block walk. It seems close unless you're walking with three people that are feeling a little lazy. Half-way home, Clayton crawled into the stroller with Cooper and squeezed in the back. It is a one-child stroller but, oh well. Then Cole started complaining about carrying his backpack which was oh so heavy filled with...one book. He wanted me to carry it. I said, no, it is your backpack, your responsibility. I kept walking, pushing the 100 pound stroller up hill against the wind.

Just as we were reaching our home, he just dropped it there on the sidewalk and demanded I pick it up and carry it for him. Again, I said no way. I kept walking. His hopes that I was bluffing started to fade as I parked the stroller in the garage and closed the door. I knew him well enough to know that he was freaking out that his backpack was out there on the street. But I underestimated his will power. He still would not get it. He stood by the front door, watching it intently through the window. I mentioned that his school librarian would probably be displeased when he had to tell her the school's library book had been stolen. I could see the urgency rise in his eyes. But still, no budging. He whined, begged, cried for me to go get it. Too late, the line had been drawn. I think it was Dr. Phil who said to pick your battles with your children carefully because you MUST win. Every time. That nugget of advice was my strength.

He started to waver. He stepped onto the porch and said that if only I would go out there with him, he would go get it. Sorry. No deal. You dropped it, it's yours, you get it. He slowly walked off the porch and was half-way there. Hooray! I thought. I won!!! But no, here he comes again. Back to the porch. More begging, more crying. Stalemate.

This had been going on for about an hour. I had to get on with things and headed upstairs to change a diaper or something. Then I heard Clayton's little voice, "Hey Mom! Kaden's Mom has our backpack!" I ran downstairs and there she was. My sweet neighbor had been out walking with her son and new baby and saw the backpack on the sidewalk. Of course, she brought it up to our porch, not knowing that she just saved me from winning. And Cole from losing. We were both so relieved that it was home safe. I happen to know that Bob the Builder backpacks are in high demand around here.