bad mom. good mom.

Bad mom.
On the way to the store to buy a birthday gift for a one-year-old's birthday party I heard this little monologue coming from the back seat...
"Oh!  There's a 'skeeto.  *clapping sound* I missed it!  Son of a bitch!  There it is again!!  *clapping sound* Dammit, it got away..."
(This is pretty much exactly the conversation I have with myself while I am hunting mosquitoes in the house).
(I suck at hunting mosquitoes and sometimes wonder if I actually have two eyes, my depth perception is so far off).

Good mom.
I don't like to do the whole bribe-the-kid-to-behave-at-the-store thing because I would like Henry to behave while shopping whether or not he gets a toy or a treat at the end.  He doesn't always get a toy/treat because in our world, that's just life.  On this particular birthday gift shopping trip, however, I was doing the best I can.  I have been planning to get Henry a Curious George stuffed toy for a while because he really enjoys that little monkey so when we were picking out a toy for the birthday party I mentioned to Henry that if we have a good trip, he can probably take George home with him but if it's a bad trip, George would have to wait at the store and come home another time.  We often have the conversation about what makes a good trip and what makes a bad trip, that way he knows my expectations and it's easier to explain when he decides that running away and hiding in the clothes racks where I can't find him is inappropriate and constitutes a bad trip.  He did a pretty good job until he decided to lay on a display couch with his shoes on, which he knows is a big no-no, and then when I asked him to get down or at the very least, take off his shoes, he decided to throw the pillows on the floor.  Bad trip, my friend.  When he saw that I wasn't so happy with him he yelled, "YOU CAN'T CATCH ME!" and started to run away.  I grabbed his hand and calmly told him that I wanted to keep him close so he would be safe so he could now hold my hand and we could have a chance at this being a good trip to the store.  All I had to do now was pay for the gift and we'd be out of there.  As we were walking to the cash registers, we talked more about a good trip and bad trip and he said it was a bad trip so George would have to stay at the store.  I told him that it was okay because we'd be back another time and we'd both work on having a good trip and then George could come home with us.  He said he was sorry and I accepted his apology and thanked him and told him I loved him and knew that he tried and we'd both just try harder next time.  At this point an older lady, probably in her late 60's, approached me and whispered, "You are such a good mom, I've been listening to your conversation.  How old is he, two-and-a-half?  I have a grandson the same age and he would be pitching a screaming fit right now if he couldn't get a toy.  Your son is listening and is fine with not getting the toy.  Can I send my grandson to your house for a while?"  I just laughed and thanked her and assured her that my son is also capable of screaming fits, but on the inside I felt so proud of Henry and later in the car, I realized that I could be proud of myself, too.  Sometimes, I am a good mom.  Thanks, lady!