Alpha mom*

One of the phrases you've been using lately is, "she said yes!" You'll ask Dad if you can, for instance, have one more cookie or a cup of tea. He'll waver, and I'll overrule (or sustain) his decision. When I say, "sure, she can have the ---," you'll call out happily, "she said yes!" because, apparently, I am the alpha mom*.
There was a time, near the end of breastfeeding, when you were somewhat disconnected. I was going to class two nights a week and you weren't so sweet and cuddly when we were together. Dad reassured me that once we didn't have the breastfeeding connection, you'd find another way. And you have; you are sweet and gentle and loving. You hold my cheeks and tell me they're soft. You run into my arms when I pick you up from school. You still want me to rock you before bed, but for "only fifteen times;" you now do the counting.
You are, at 33 months, so verbal and able to express yourself, I'm really enjoying this time. Our evenings and mornings are, for the most part, too short. But in the evenings, you find a way to make us laugh with your funny voices and discussions of football, basketball, and "baby Lucy" pictures. You race around until the very last minute; most bedtimes are spent wiggly and happy until your head hits the pillow.
Most of the time, I say yes -- yes, this is just what I want.

*Thanks for the free t-shirt, Alpha Mom.