are you mad at me?

I have started rating the day based on how many times I'm asked this question, as Liam asks it whenever I show the slightest frustration with him or discipline him or speak to him in that "mom" tone. He gets very contrite and worried and asks, "Mom, are you mad at me?"

Yesterday, I was really ticked off. I have a nice liquid hand soap in the bathroom. Knowing Liam's love of emptying bottles and refilling them with water or even just topping off half-used bottles of shampoo, bubble bath, etc, with a little H2O, I had specifically told him a couple weeks ago that this was MY bottle. Don't put water in it. So much for that.

In the reprimanding that ensued, I was asked the question, twice. And enjoyed a tearful chorus of "I want mama. I want my mama back!"

Am I really that bad? There are definitely moments that pass when I wish I hadn't been so stern or reacted out of frustration. Like today when I asked Liam to put his car window up because it was hot and he wouldn't do it so I tried to put it up myself but it wouldn't go up because at the same time he was pushing it down and I slammed the brakes on and yelled at him. I really wish that I had calmly pulled over to the side of the road and told him (in my kindest, calmest voice) that we would just sit there until he decided that he'd like to put his window up. I know that would have worked, and it would have been so much better for all of us. But instead I bellowed for half a minute like William Wallace and then threw down my sword and tried to pull it together, explaining how I'm not really "mad at you."

Tonight when I was lying down with Liam before he went to sleep, I asked him if there was anything he wanted to pray for. He said, "I don't want to have that eagle dream," (which I'm guessing, since he can't explain it, is not a pleasant dream) and then he listed off a bunch of people: friends, family and random neighbors, librarians and people we haven't seen or spoken of for ages. (I love knowing these people are on his mind.) Then, I remembered the car incident.

"Maybe mommy should pray for more patience when you do naughty things," I added.

He nodded slightly and patted my cheek. "Okay," he said. "But I'm not mad at you."