Dear Pot O' Vinegar,
While I've always known you as an expression in the Chinese language, I've just come to realize that your literal translation into English makes no sense. Because I find that very interesting, I'd like to tell the story of my little Pot O' Vinegar. Perhaps by the end of my story, it will be very apparent what you mean.
You see, I have a Pot O' Vinegar.
Every time I sit down on the sofa next to Dear Husband, my little Pot O' Vinegar immediately runs across the room and inserts himself between the two of us. Then he proceeds to shower me with hugs while turning his backside to DH and pushing him as far away from me as possible with his rear end.
Every time I give DH a big hug within sight of my Pot O' Vinegar, we get
Yes, you guessed it. My little Pot O' Vinegar is none other than my One and Only Dear Son. He came into the world attached to me, and even though his daddy severed his umbilical cord that connected us, that connection still exists figuratively and implicitly. It is without a doubt that I am the Apple of my DS' eyes, the North Star of his sky, and the Love of his
It's a good thing that DH doesn't take it personally, because he
While I'd like to bask in this sweet, syrupy joy of overwhelming love from DS, I know the right thing to do is to gently teach him that it is okay to see Daddy as someone who also comforts and someone who also knows what's best and what's right. And whether it's just a matter of time or developmental maturation, DS has come a long way in this regard. Suffice it to say, DH often reminisces how it didn't matter to DS whether or not Daddy existed in his first year of life. And now, we are definitely seeing the balance tip over from that vastly unequal height toward the middle, albeit that it is still a work in progress.
Alas, it doesn't stop me from
On a few occasions, I have waited until DS is in the shower to pull DH into the bathroom where, through the glass shower door, DS can see us in a full embrace. The poor little guy. He gets totally undone and shrieks on the top of his lungs to show his angst because he cannot join us for a group hug.
I. Am. So. Mean.
The other day, I blew an air kiss to DH. Muah. He quickly returned one back. Muah. My Eager Beaver Pot O' Vinegar immediately launched his Only-For-Mommy Kiss into the air towards me. Muah. It was too funny not to turn this into a Tornado of Air Kisses wherein DS gets upset that I don't return his. I blew another kiss to DH. Muah. He caught onto my devious plot right away. Muah back. DS flung his kiss to me faster than lightning. A few rounds of this into "fast motion" sent me into hysterical laughter. I ended up finally returning his air kiss and having to comfort DS because he was so out of sorts. I had to explain that we were not laughing at him, but that we were laughing because he was too darned cute.
He didn't get it.
But in all seriousness, I did have conversations with him about the significance of a family that outwardly shows affection to one another. I explained that children are usually happy to see their parents hug each other because the hugs show their love for one another. I said that parents loving each other does not result in less love for their children, as he might think. DS mostly seemed to understand the implications of our talk, but was not fully convinced yet, until I added a fact that spoke his language:
Me: Do you understand why it's a good thing for Mommy and Daddy to hug each other now?
DS (reluctantly): Yes.
Me: But do you know what else?
DS (still skeptical): What?
Me: I hug you a lot more than I hug Daddy!
DS (eyes light up): Really?
Me: Of course! I hug and kiss you all the time!
DS (smiles with satisfaction): You really hug me more than you hug Daddy?
DS (fist pumps): YES!
So, Dear Pot O' Vinegar, in Chinese, you are 醋罈子, and I'm sure you've fully come across in meaning in my story. Honestly, it's so endearing to have a child react that strongly to my every word, move, and thought. And even DD--being older and wiser--finds DS' "green with envy" behavior extremely comical. I know that as his mommy I must soak all this in now, as I would only be lucky enough to get a fraction of this sourness when he is older.
But I can hope to look forward to a nicely aged balsamic vinegar in my Pot O' Vinegar--some years way down the line.