My child gets mad at me. My child gets mad at me a lot.
When we turn off the X-box.
When we have to go to school (aka therapy).
Pretty much any time he doesn’t get his way.
Let’s face it. The kid is effectively three and a half behaviorally. This age isn’t known for its fantastic coping skills.
Last night, though, my child had a new response for me at bedtime. I had turned off the lights, tucked him in, gotten him his stuffed animals and a drink, and left him to sulk. As I walked away, I told him that I loved him.
“No,” he grumbled back with his little arms crossed and the biggest pouty face. “Don’t love me.”
It was all I could do not to bust out laughing. “Oh, buddy,” I said. “You don’t get to choose. Mommy gets to love you whether you want her to or not.”