Lately, mornings with my (almost) 3-year old son have been dreadfully similar to the presidential debates. Both parties saying the same things over and over again…forcing smiles between gritted teeth to try and maintain some sense of decorum (ok, so that one is just on my side)…and in the end, no one coming out a winner.

My husband is the moderator, stepping in to remind us that we both agreed to the (unspoken) terms of the mother/son relationship and we really need to stick to them.

It’s the quintessential war of wills – one that every parent has experienced at some point during the course of toddler-hood. However, considered alongside this election, the similarities have brought me much hilarity.

Obviously, his newfound independence – evidenced by his daily opinions on what shirt he wears, whether or not he brushes his teeth and uses the potty – can be attributed to his age. No one ever knows when this behavior may rear its ugly head, and surely no one knows when it will end.

But then, just when you think you’ll never make it to the breakfast table, a morning like yesterday happens. I very hesitantly – but swiftly – began placing a shirt over his head and he said the magic words I’ve been longing to hear at the tender hour of 7am, “Mommy, I like this shirt.”

Last 5 posts by MoltoMom

• The Trick of the Treat - October 20th, 2008
• Don’t Drink the Kool-Aid - November 4th, 2008
• Judging the Caffeine - November 13th, 2008
• The Birth of a Three Year Old - November 21st, 2008
• Night Moves - December 10th, 2008