I mentioned in my previous post that my ray of sunshine has had a rough time transitioning to me going back to work. This morning was the worst so far.
We got to Theresa's house and we were walking up to her house. Noah asked me if his little friend Paxton was there. I looked in and said yes, opened the door and waited for Noah to walk in. I waited. And waited. Juliana's car seat was getting heavy, so I dropped her off inside the door and went back out and asked Noah what was going on. He said he wasn't going to go to Theresa's today. I explained to him why he was going to go to Theresa's. Then I began to count. Noah said, "I don't want you to get to 3". I told him that I didn't want to get to 3 either. I don't often get to 3 (it's happened 1 or 2 times). I got to 3.
I went to Noah and he said, "Okay". I took his hand, because I thought okay meant he was going to go inside. I was wrong. So, I followed through with what I had told him was going to happen and took him back to the van. Then we went into Theresa's house, where he proceeded to wrap his arms and legs around me. Theresa literally had to wrestle him off of me while he kicked and cried. She wrestled him onto the couch and held him there so I could leave. I told him I loved him and he started to scream that he wanted a kiss. Theresa let him give me a kiss and then we went through the wrestling again. I could hear him all the way out to the car screaming, "I want my Momma!".
Nothing like a good dose of working-momma guilt along with a strong willed child to start the day.