Kicked out of my own bed by my 3,5 year old kid in the middle of the night! Arguing in anger. Harsh words of a hardly one meter high little boy merging German and Dutch into a non-comprehensible language of utter anger. Accusations of being a bad, bad…bad…. bad… mom who should go live somewhere else. Find another house. Just Go!
Intense arguing and fierce stubbornness. Even after a morning bribe, whilst sprinkling his Soy Muesli with Chocolat Flakes. Giving me the cold shoulder and manifesting his anger toward me in a mantra… pretending I don’t hear it. Although every word carves my heart and builds my insecurity.
A silent walk to kindergarten with a 3 year old thunder cloud floating far behind me, making sure he is not even remotely connected to me…. the horror mom, die Rabenmutter.
Arriving at kindergarten … in silence … turning towards me, lifting his sweater and unleashing his tiny, very white belly button for a blabber bloat kiss of mommy. All is well again. Ohne Worte.
I love you my son Lux Zillion!