Shall we say Braxton is adjusting as a 3 year-old would to our move to "W-o-s Vegas" (he draws out Las when he tells people where we live)?
One day he tipped over the 8-foot tall bookshelf in the living room (decorated only with wooden statues). Apparently he was angry that I gave him only a square of extra-large bubble wrap instead of the full roll to play with. So, thoughtless of me.
Another day (this must have been our fault), after being asked nicely not to "shake" the small, immature tree in the backyard, he broke a branch off instead. Brandon was not happy, naturally, as we want to be cautious while we are in our "rental home".
And lastly, but probably not the last . . . one morning he requested Oatmeal for breakfast. I got it ready for him while on a long distance call to my friend, Jennie, in Idaho. I realized the oatmeal was hot as I put it on the table in front of him. Not wanting him to burn his tongue, I thoughtfully added a little milk to cool it off. Suddenly, he had his pouty lip and angry eyes. I knew he was mad about the added milk, so I took the bowl away to try to strain the milk out and make it acceptable for him. As I turned away, all the while talking on the phone, he pushed the full gallon of milk off the kitchen table, onto the floor. We lost only half the gallon, and needless to say, I had to call Jennie back after trying to decide how to soak up half a gallon of milk.
We can only take a deep breath and firmly explain when he makes a wrong choice, then remember he is our sweet little Braxton who was blessed with a strong-willed mind of his own. So, just breath, don't cry.
