Fighting fire with fire

I've been feeling crappy today. The festering wound on my leg that split open today can't be re-stitched. I need to stuff it with saline-soaked gauze every day instead. And it feels awful and I feel awful and Monster has replaced me with his PCA, B.

So Monster got off the van today and came running up and gave me a hug. Came into the house bubbling over with stories and seeming happy enough. Then he asked, "Can I call my friends (the rotten kids down the street who I wish I could keep Monster away from, but I really am just glad he has friends at this point in time)?"

I said no, it's swimming tonight.

And he burst into tears.

Not the fake whiney ones that he has perfected. These were real, heartbroken tears of a kid who has had a rough day and couldn't take one little "no". His little heart was breaking.

And then, without even knowing I was going to do it, I burst into tears right there along with him. The two of us sobbed together, he for himself, me for myself (and maybe a little bit for him...), just sitting there together on the love seat, holding each other, bawling our eyes out.

Monster stopped crying first, and seemed puzzled that Mommy was sitting there crying and not being annoyed with him for HIS crying.

He ended up comforting ME, which is so back-assward in so many ways. It's not his job to comfort me. But he did. He was so sweet.

Then he whined all the way to swimming lessons.

And I got annoyed.

And everything was right in the universe again.