Perfectly Happy

Two of my little boys are so similar it's scary. They like many of the same toys, have several unique yet identical characteristics, and because of this have a love/hate relationship. To be honest, having gone through the fire with the first of these two is making raising his brother at least tolerable. We appear to know what we're doing this time round, or at least have a few expectations of our parenting outcomes. Both boys are what I refer to as "bi-polar" - heaven forbid they actually ever be diagnosed with this horrific illness. They are both extremely emotional and can range in emotions quickly and drastically. Giddy one second and then crying or angry the next. Some of you can relate, I'm sure.

Today was a emotional roller-coaster for my one son. But I was thrilled that when I tucked him in to bed tonight he was smiling and happy. "You're happy" I told him. I want him to tune in to his feelings, and I was also glad that stating the obvious made for a bright ending to both of our days. "I am happy," he told me. "I was happy at church today too." "Why were you happy?" I asked. "Everyone thought I was funny and they kept laughing at me and I liked it." Uh oh, I thought, my son was being a troublemaker. "Were you being a troublemaker?" "No. I don't know why they were laughing." "Were you talking out of turn, or being loud?" (I had seen him doing just this while passing by his class.) "Did your teacher have to tell you to stop or be quiet?" He gazed up at me with his adorable smile still in place. "Nope. I was perfect." I kissed him goodnight, and as he wiped off my kiss I was glad he could, for at least a moment today, be perfectly happy.