The alternate title of this post is "Surrendering".
Can you can see where this going?
This past weekend was great. The wee man's Grandpa Cheese was in town. There was much playing and reading and napping and building. Very little food got airborne. Most bodily produced waste products were deposited in the appropriate receptacles. Sleep was undisturbed well past 5am.
Things are going well, so maybe the wee man was feeling unwell, or maybe the 'rents are becoming more practiced, or maybe we've come to some sort of understanding, a settlement, a negotiated agreement.
Right. The literature of negotiation celebrates collaborating as a great negotiating mode. My negotiating prof insists on the importance of creating the frame and building trust. Gurus laud the win-win. None of that is happening here.
I'm sure a lot of this newfound harmony lies in my simple capitulation to his demands. Ok, so not all of his demands (I still get a way in when I change his diaper and when he goes to bed), but he's the master of what he eats and when. He controls which door we use to exit the house. He determines the route of our commute. How long will bath time be? Go ask him. Which chair will I be allowed to sit in at dinner? Will I even get to sit during dinner?
I get to be the kid again and do some things just because somebody said so. And I'm kind of loving the freedom.