Dylan said tonight that he wanted a "toy Mommy."
I had asked him if he would like a special prize when, after he turns 3 next month, he gives me his pacifiers. Because "Big boys don't use Big Soothies."
He's game. He'll take a toy Mommy.
"What is a toy Mommy?" I asked him.
He spread his arms wide to show me how big it was. Then he said his toy Mommy "makes noises."
"What kind of noises?" I asked.
"Like 'Don't say 'stupid,''" he answered.
"And my toy Mommy puts people in time out."
Oof. We had had a rough day. Two time-outs each for each boy. (Two punching episodes, one spitting incident, and a screaming freak-out over maple syrup.)
In between time-outs, we swam, ate Fluffernutter sandwiches made with gourmet peanut butter, and played in the sprinkler. We had banana pancakes shaped like animals for dinner. They were declared "the Best! Pancakes! Ever!"
But at the end of the day, the negatives had made the biggest impression. Sigh. We'll try again tomorrow.
I suppose I should be happy he wants a toy Mommy at all. And if that's what it takes to assuage the Big Soothie hand-off, I better start shopping.
Either that, or he can keep Big Soothie until he's 17.
