Truman the Therapist

Earlier this week, I was driving with the kids, and I had a lot on my mind. We have had a lot happening in the past month - being forced out of our home, moving into an undesirable, more expensive house, searching for jobs out of fear of losing the current one, a busted pipe and extensive water damage to our and our neighbor's condos in Bloominton, which is up for sale, paying mortgage and rent, and three different respiratory viruses. Truman was trying to talk to me about something and I guess I was being a little short with him in my replies.
He said, "Mommy, it sounds like you are mad at me."
I said, "I'm not mad at you, Truman."
"But mommy, your voice sounds like you're mad to me."
"I'm not mad!"
"Well, let's talk about something happy. Let's talk about CMOE!"
My sweet little three year old guy was picking up on my irritation, not at him, just at life in general, and trying to distract me from my anxieties.
This is one of the best gifts that comes along with being able to have and raise children.

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