And while we hugged, Adam finally pooped.

Ariel is overtired and dehydrated after a long day, and wants to watch The Suite Life of Zack and Cody on TV. I say no, it’s meant for teenagers, or at least kids a lot older than not-quite-five. He’s furious. He gets that crazy rude and aggressive way about him that comes out every now and then, and starts ordering me around obnoxiously. He’s literally staring me in the eyes and challenging me to a duel of wills, as if we are on the same level, daring me to blink first. I’m prepared this time—I won’t be baited into a shouting match. I won’t let him rile me up into trying to assert my authority, and then watch helplessly as he mimics my behavior.

Instead, I flick off the TV and walk away saying calmly, You may not talk to me like that, and there will be no more TV tonight. He’s yelling things at me as I walk away, but I totally ignore him. He doesn’t apologize, instead marches off to his room where he calms himself down by playing with toys for awhile. Elan’s out at a party and Yoni and I are playing with Adam on our bed, acting like idiots trying to make him giggle in that incredibly contagious five-month-old way. Sensing a good time, Ariel wants in. He climbs on top of Yoni, cooing at Adam. I’m not letting him off that easy—he was really awful earlier. So I calmly ask him to leave, explaining that I am still upset about the way he spoke to me — all is not quite forgotten. He’s not happy to go, but still makes no attempt to reconcile.

A half hour later or so, I’m in the kitchen, feeding Ad his afternoon rice cereal and chatting with Elan, who has arrived home. Ariel is in the family room and dramatically slides the door closed, a door that is always left open, loudly informing Elan it’s because he doesn’t want to have to EVEN LOOK AT MOMMY, he’s so mad. I stay cool, pretend I didn’t hear. After a few minutes, I notice him making strange noises in my direction, peeking through the opening between the two rooms.

I turn to him and say, “Ariel, it seems as if you’re trying to get my attention. Do you want to talk?”

“What’s ‘attention’?” He spits back, rolling his eyes.

“It seems like you want me to look at you and talk to you. To notice you. Is that what you want?”

“Do you want to ‘attention’ me?”

Straight face. Keep a straight face.

“Sure. But are you still acting like you were before? Because I didn’t want to pay attention to behavior like that. It wasn’t any fun.”

“Well…OKAY SORRY. NOW CAN YOU SAY SORRY TO ME?”

“In this case, I think you need to be comfortable apologizing to me without my apologizing to you. I gave you lots of other options of shows to watch and there was really no excuse for acting all scary and mean like that to me. It was disrespectful and it hurt my feelings.”

“FINE WHATEVER I JUST DID.”

“Okay. Apology accepted.”

“Well…”

“Yes?”

He looks at the floor. “Well…can you help?”

“Help what?”

Small voice: “Can you help me – be me?”

Omigod. “What do you mean, honey?”

“Can you help me,” Pause. “…Control my temper?”

I’m a puddle. “Yes. Sure. Of course I’ll help. Why don’t you come in here and give me a hug and we’ll start fresh right now?”

I kneel down on the kitchen floor and he comes flying into my arms, his eyes wet, and stays there awhile. I kiss his hair and he buries his face in my shoulder.

A few minutes later, we still haven’t moved. Elan, slightly weirded out, breaks the silence: “Whoa. You guys are really hugging a long time.”

I say: “I’m not letting go until he does.”

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