Socks

My son sleeps in socks now. I cannot sleep in socks. It makes me feet feel like they're imprisoned. If you try to take his socks off- even while he's sleeping- he'll tell you in a sleepy, hazy voice,"socks on". That's commitment. He's taken to collecting socks and carrying them around. He can't always decide what he wants to do with the socks- layer them, hoard them, have me wear them or throw them around. Last night, he wanted me to show him my feet so he could check to see if I was wearing socks. A mother's love only goes so far:) Yesterday we spent a nice day together as a family. We had lunch at French Meadow Cafe and then went to visit Trent in the hospital. Grandma Edberg, Loren and Peg showed up so we had a fun visit with them too. Today, it's our duty to get him back on a schedule. Quinn's been going to sleep later, napping later and eating whenever; with Monday just around the corner, we need to get him back into a routine. Tomorrow is the last day of first semester Boy's Class and our turn to bring treats. I have a packet about tantrums to read and I'm excited that Luke has already read it. Yesterday I decided I was "in charge" of my son and we were going to get dressed, even though he wanted to stay in his train shirt. But, I insisted and even through the crying and moving away, I stubbornly continued to dress him. It made me feel poopy, but a combination of things were running through my mind. One, I was feeing emotional and sad because the family dog was put to sleep yesterday. Two, I had just read an editorial about kids using crack or cocaine. The logic in my head said that if I let Quinn dictate too much in life then he'll end up using drugs. I don't want to parent out of fear, but with love. After a moments breather for us both and hugs Quinn and I took his train shirt and washed it in the sink. Then, we hung it up to dry and I explained that when his shirt was dry he could wear it again. After his nap he went off in search for his train shirt and we put it back on him:)