I don't know who stole my baby and replaced him with a screaming, fussy toddler, but I have words for you. HARSH words. Zeke has been EXTREMELY "touchy" lately. Surely moms, you know what I mean.
Normally he is such a wonderful, obedient little man. And even at his worst, he is not as bad as he could be. But the tears have flowed on more occasions than I care to remember over the past few weeks. Today, they were mine. Zeke couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to eat a graham cracker after breakfast; thus, he was having a fit and crying his little heart out. This is where our conversation picks up.
Me: Honey, let's go play!
Me: Darlin', look at all those toys! They're so fun!
Zeke: No mama, HOME!
Me: Sweetheart, we ARE home. This is our home now.
Zeke: No! Home. Toys. Mama, please?
My. Heart. Sank.
He knows. The fact that we ripped him out of the only place he had known, where we moved when he was only 16 months old, is not lost on him. He has a memory now. He remembers his friends. Every once in a while he will ask for his friends and say "Hug". Many of his toys are missing; in storage. Much of our life is the same as when we left Florida--I take him to the gym to see his favorite baby sitter. He has the same friends. But he doesn't remember THEM, because he was still just a baby when we left. Until today I failed to recognize that he might have trouble with this move. And trouble, he haz it. It explains so much about his recent behavior: the refusal to eat, the screaming, the sensitivity. I vowed this morning to be more understanding.
He wants to go back home, back to what's familiar and comfortable.
And don't we all?
"Beloved I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul. Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation."
1 Peter 2:11-12 (English Standard Version), emphasis mine