Remove the Peas, Please

Sometimes motherhood feels like being a pro-bono waitress at a 24-hour diner, only you have to wipe their bums, too. One particular dinnertime, Aaron decided he no longer wanted his peas and pears in his sight, so when I didn't remove them from his tray at once, he proceeded to scream at me and throw them on the freshly mopped (which is a rare occurance these days) tile floor. That was the last straw for me after a long day of kid fit pitching, and I grumbled quietly to myself about having just cleaned the floor and "the prince" splattered peas all over it. I was down on my hands and knees, scrubbing the smooshed peas up and trying to wipe up pear juice, when I suddenly felt a little hand softly rubbing my back. I looked up to see Aaron stretching himself over the side of his high chair, smiling down at me, saying something really soft and sweet in pre-toddler babble that in my mind meant "I love you and appreciate everything you do for me, Mama". Now, I know that's surely not what he said, but his response toward me while I was having my own inward little tantrum was just what I needed. All I could do was laugh at myself for my frustration, and enjoy a sweet moment with my son. I don't have any photos for this blog, as I only have the one of his sweet little face smiling down on me imprinted in my mind. But I think you can imagine the scene... =)