It all started because I was trying to prepare dinner. Roman was pulling on my legs and whimpering at my feet. If there is one combination that sends me to the zero patience zone, it's whiny children during dinner prep. So I thought, "You know what kid? Have at it!" I plopped him down in the highchair with a spoon and a bowl of luke warm refried beans. Ahhhh, peace and quiet. After everything was chopped and sizzling on the stove, I headed over to feed the baby. In one fluid motion, I plucked the spoon from his hands and scooped a bite for the little starving guy. Finally, my eyes settled on him for the first time, his hands were frozen in the air. He looked at me incredulously and dropped his little head on the tray. Roman screamed and cried and kicked his legs at my audacity. I made a big big mistake. He was eating...with a spoon...for the first time...by himself...and I interrupted. So I put the spoon back in his hands and softly encouraged him to keep going. His little 16 month old tantrum tears dried up in a nanosecond and he was back at work. I sat on a stool across from him and watched for a few moments. This time I thought, "You know what kid? What sort of person would I be without you? I love you so much!" I promised myself to slow down a little, and to pay attention a lot more.