rewind.

I'd like to pretend today didn't happen.  It started out bad.  Got a little better.  Then got worse.  Then got worse.  Then got worse. 

Henry isn't two yet but he is all two.  He is bigger than an average two-year-old yet wants to be carried around like a not-yet-two-year-old.  My back aches so bad by the end of the day I can hardly stay vertical.  He throws tantrums like a kid stuck at two for the past twenty years.  He's that good.  He also rebounds from these tantrums like nothing ever happened.

So much like Henry pretends the kicking screaming kicking screaming kicking screaming never happened, I'm going to pretend today didn't happen. 

Except for when Henry hugged me and kissed my nose and patted my head and said "love mom-mom."  I would like to do that again, please.