Full Disclosure

There's a thing about blogging. Blogging publicly, unpassword protected, out there for anyone and everyone to take a peak. Lest I sound like I'm flattering myself I am humble enough to understand that those who read about our journey are limited in numbers - I'm a far cry from the Dooce readership - but still, there are readers, and they read. The thing is that the readers represent family, friends, colleagues, strangers, potential networks, existing networks, and a handful of other groups all who now know who we are, what we do, why we do it, and what we're hoping to do next.

I think that's why a lot of the blogs I started reading ages ago have since gone private (password protected), while being a big reason for why we're still public. After all, anyone who would subscribe to our family blog would presumably already know our ins and outs - it's those who happen upon us while embarking on their own journey, perhaps seeking some perspective or a tiny correlation to their own circumstances that might prove somewhat helpful that nudges me to keep this public.

So, we're public.

Ash screamed SCREAMED his way through the grocery store when we picked him up from school today(apparently the juice box we gave him was the wrong flavor). Silly us, visions of the first 80 degree and sunny day in AGES spent laughing and frolicking in the yard. Nope. Right to bed, where he continued to SCREAM until the moment he stopped. Then I prepared myself, full-on armor ready to enter the room and be mean mommy. NO juice. NO bike. YOU WERE BAAAAAD! So I opened the door, he reached out his arms, I knelt, and we cuddled.

While he worked on slowing down his heart rate and catching his breath I watched glimpses of my own childhood flash before me. The times when I had participated in activities just a bit worse than demanding apple juice. The times when my mom, much like I had to do today, just cuddled me tightly because she (and now I) knew that I (and now Ash) got it. We got/get the picture, we were/are in need of some reprimand, yet when the moment comes when your wrongness becomes real what you really need is a big hug from mommy. My mom gave me plenty of those hugs growing up, and today I finally got what they have been and will always be about. I may have wanted to punch mommy sized holes in the wall earlier this evening, but the eventual breakthrough of understanding each other and true behavior modification made me feel like a mom. A really good mom.

We then went on to enjoy the greatest of great evenings. Ash helped daddy cut basil from the garden so that mommy could make a pesto pasta for dinner. Daddy grilled spicy Italian sausages. We soaked corn to grill for a sweet ending to the meal. Who would've thought that a night that began with dragging (literally dragging) a tantrum throwing 2 year old through a farmer's market parking lot could possibly end in such bliss. Full-on I've let you scream in your room for 20 minutes so now that you've stopped you had BETTER get that you will NOT do this again kind of interaction, all ending in a Zen-filled atmosphere of oneness.

Don't get me wrong, I know we're screwed. He's too cute and too smart. To combat this I've enrolled us in the course: Parenting 101: How the hell did my parents survive raising ME. Only I'm pretty sure I wasn't this cute...which brings me right back to being screwed.

I'm hoping to get an A, but I'll be satisfied with not failing.