Pride and Joy

Several times over the past couple of weeks, the folks at VillaKids (my gym's kids' club/day care) have told me Milo earned a star and a treat for being a good helper. They tell me he is quiet and well behaved. My initial reaction is, "Well, of course he is." On the heels of that comes the reaction of, "Wait. You mean MY Milo?" They tell me he is such a good boy, they wish all their 2-year-olds were like him. Again, I have to wonder where that kid goes when they bring my kid out to me.

First of all, I'm so proud of him for being well-behaved and helpful. And I'm really happy that he is good for them. I wouldn't want him to be the kid that makes people cringe. And he isn't a bad kid at home. He's actually pretty well behaved most of the time. But when he isn't. Well, let's just say he can be challenging, energetic and a little bit deaf, I think. Really, how many times can you say no to a kid and he just ignores you?

My mom used to tell me that my brother's teachers would tell her how polite and well-behaved he was -- at school. At home he was a holy terror. I know. I lived with him. (Those of you close to me know which brother I mean.) Milo is nowhere near that bad. Maybe because he doesn't have brothers and a sister to tease constantly. My brother grew up to be a responsible adult, a good husband and father. So I guess it all works out in the end.

And I know, for every 5:30 a.m. wake-up call from my boy, for every gallon of water splashed out of the tub, for every random toy chucked at my head -- or the dog -- there is a hug, a kiss, a "Hi, Mama" that melts my heart and reminds me that he is my pride and joy.

But maybe he could save some of the quiet for home too.