Last night S was on a roll. We've covered a bit of his energetic persona in past entries. All night I did battle with stunts like his dinner being transferred from his plate to his water cup (and then eaten) and his new-found skill of urinating in an empty shampoo bottle (did I really just confess that?). By bedtime I was done with a capital "D". S was just winding up with all manner of wailing and refusal to comply. I was at my wit's end. As I sat on the bed contemplating my next move, I watched as my six year old M, gently went over to S who was crying by his window seat and began rubbing his back. M stated "He's having a hard time" as he offered solace to his best little friend.
It was all I could do to hold back the tears. M taught me the most valuable lesson of the day. Compassion is most needed when we least want to give it and when those we extend it to may least deserve it. I love that little man for his soft heart. Just for the record, I chilled out and we made it through the rest of the night. I need the heart of a child.