Points for Good Behavior

This weekend has been lovely. My parents came for a visit, as promised, and they just cooed and giggled and played with the Munchkin.... are still doing it, in fact, as I sit here "working" from home. (Hey, give me a break, it's only 7:22am! Blog first, work later.) They've had a great time, and we've all been impressed, once again, that our little boy is so even-tempered and well-behaved. I mean, you couldn't really fault him if he was loud or fussy in public -- he's too little to know any better at this point -- but Mom and Dad keep saying how pleasant he is, and that pleases me. Aside from a small hungry outburst on the way home from dinner at Smokey Bones (the best BBQ ribs I've ever had, BTW), Munchkin has done great. And, of course, that one outburst was my fault -- I went unprepared with no bottle to feed him. I can be a real dimwit. But, back to the matter at hand, I hope he'll grow up to be a good kid, who can be taken to nice restaurants and won't run wild or disrupt dinner, or disturb other patrons. A lot of that has to do with parenting and I know DH and I agree on this issue. At any rate, we've enjoyed being all together this weekend, at home, and out at church as well as just about every restaurant surrounding our little suburban home. :)

Last night, I thought that the balloon had been deflated, though -- that no one was having fun anymore. Munchkin's screaming fit had something to do with it, as he kind-of wore everyone out! But then DH announced, "I'll be down in the basement polishing my shoes..." and he was gone more than an hour. This, after leaving earlier in the day "to go to Jason's" -- Jason is his best friend. I was ticked at that -- what, are we not enough fun for you? Do you just HAVE to "get away?" I really thought he had had it with my parents (who do tend to "take over" a bit, when they visit)... but still, it's no excuse for just LEAVING. So, before bed, I confronted him about it. "Are you okay? Have you had a good weekend?" I asked him. "Yeah, it's been great!" he replied. "Really? You're sure you're not sick of my parents or something?" Him: "WHY would you say something like that? I love your parents." ...and then me, dissolving into a few stupid tears as I tried to explain to him how his leaving had made me think he was mad at us or tired of us. He wouldn't hear it. "Come here," he said, and led me downstairs to the kitchen, which was all turned off and "shut down" for bedtime... He flipped on the light.

There they sat, the two dozen roses he'd gotten me for Valentine's Day. That he gets me every year for Valentine's Day. "I didn't go to Jason's," he said, grinning proudly at the major surprise he'd pulled off -- my drama just made it that much sweeter for him. I hid my head in shame and emabarassment, breathing in his t-shirt and smiling through my stupid tears (still falling, for better reasons now). Of course. Of COURSE. He loves me, he said, without saying it at all.

DH earned points for good behavior, too. Happy St. Valentine's Day to you and your Valentine.