I'm having trouble not seeing this as end-of-the-world style terrible problems (partly because I'm at the time of the month in which a person of the female persuasion tends to feel as though her emotions/reactions/mood are entirely out of her control and the slightest problem is apocalyptic).
We sat at dinner and tried to sort out why Coen got sent away during his class' time to practice their holiday song. According to him he had no idea what he did wrong and he was just trying to sing like Otis Redding. Tad suggested that maybe tomorrow he just sing like himself and asked if Coen was absolutely SURE he was not doing anything. Coen shrugged and said that maybe he may have been messing around a little.
After I gave him a bath and tried to talk to him about things during which he sunk down underwater in his extreme desire not to hear me say anything about his part in this situation and broke down crying about two kids who are mean to him. I feel bad about this but suggested that he really only has control over himself and his own reactions to which he replied that "that's NOT even what I'm TALKING about..." After all that, I got him tucked into bed with his Star Wars book and went downstairs to talk to Tad.
Tad assured me that the ship would right eventually and that I'm just freaking out because I was the kind of child, in school, who-in his words- just spent all my time at the teacher's desk polishing her apples. I laughed at that and left for a meeting during which I received this picture text from my smart-ass husband:
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So, even though I'm as frustrated with Coen as I am sympathetic towards him and I'm at a loss as to what to do about this endless barrage of troublesome days...I feel incredibly lucky to have a partner who goes to such lengths to make me laugh and I know that if his son is even a fraction like him when he grows up, we have no worries.
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