Sometimes I feel like I’m fucking up this whole parenting thing.
Niko is very, aggressively, brilliantly, loudly, ferociously, FOUR (and a half). He’s stubborn and loud and has been refusing to sleep in his own bed for the past six months or so, and has been acting out his frustrations of not having his tata around as much as he used to be with his new job and longer hours.
Today we hit the playground after school and Niko was trying to play with some bigger kids. They rebuffed him, kindly, and he was disappointed and kept trying to play with them. And then a big kid knocked over a two year old accidentally, and the little girl started crying, and Niko teleported over there to make goofy faces at her and dance until she stopped crying and started laughing.
He spent the next 15 minutes telling her “jokes” (NB: the jokes told by 4 year olds are comprehensible only to other 2-4 year olds), holding her hand, leading her up steps and across a shakey bridge, encouraging her to slide down a slide and be brave, and the like. The only reason he stopped was that her mama took her home. He followed her to the gate saying good bye, and then got distracted by a little baby and paused to coo over the baby and make faces and talk about how cute that baby was (IT WAS VERY CUTE).
If nothing else, we’re managing to raise a kid who’s kind and considerate toward other kids, especially kids younger and smaller than he is. And that’s something I’m so, so proud of. He’s a good kid with a big goofy smile and a huge heart. He’s very loving. It’s so great. HE is so great.
At least we’re doing something right, I guess.