"Are you angry with me?"

Cal asked me tonight if I was angry with him.  I felt like I had been punched in the stomach.  "What? No... no, I'm not, Baby Bear," I answered him immediately.  I then asked him to look at me, which he did.  "I LOVE YOU," I told him as I planted a kiss on his lips.

He then handed me his two pre-bed-reading books and climbed onto my lap to listen to me read them.  When that was done, he climbed into bed, we had our "good night" exchange and I left him to fall asleep.  It was all very normal (except that he actually did stay in bed and fell asleep).

I can't stop thinking about his question.  I'm finding it to be both slightly troubling and very thought-provoking.  What makes it troubling is that he thought the events that led to his asking that question might have made me angry; what makes it thought-provoking is that I find myself wondering if I want him to ever wonder if I'm angry with him or if I'm ever really angry with him.

We had a nice evening, Cal and I.  We spent a good hour to hour and a half drawing Sandra Boynton scenes from her book "Opposites" before heading up for bedtime a little later than planned. He was fully cooperative with my insistence that we wash his face, hands and feet (let's call it a pseudo bath on a non-bath night which we probably should have made a bath night considering all of the outside play in the afternoon).  He brushed his teeth thoroughly; and as we headed to his room to pick out his clothes to wear tomorrow, I reminded him that tomorrow is "wear your favorite sports team garb," the first of 5 days of dress-up themes during Teacher Appreciation Week at school.  I had been talking about this day all weekend, and this would be my final reminder.

This is where things started to fall apart.
 

Nick Jonas as Marius, 2010 (the Marius Cal knows)

His choices were limited to White Sox, Notre Dame and Bears, and really only Notre Dame because his Bears shirt is dirty and his White Sox shirt is short sleeved -- Cal doesn't like short sleeves. He wasn't having anything to do with any of those "choices," and opted instead to dress like Daddy (professional), which somehow turned into dressing like Marius (from Les Miserables).  He enthusiastically chose his black pants and his black button-down shirt.

"Dress like Daddy Day is later in the week, Cal," I delivered that blow to him.  "Tomorrow you're supposed to wear something of your favorite sports team."  Supposed to... it bothers me I used that term for a school dress-up day.

"I want to dress like Marius," Cal said, to which I responded with obvious frustration that he could dress like Marius later in the week, that tomorrow he should wear a sports team's shirt.  "How about you wear your Notre Dame shirt?" I asked him.

"It doesn't look like Notre Dame," he said.  I didn't fully understand that, but accepted it as a rejection; so I dug into his drawer and found a generic, orange, long-sleeved basketball shirt (which he never wears).  "How about this one?" I asked pointedly, to which he responded with a simple nod.  He gave in to my wishes... well, kind of my wishes.  A compromise had been reached.

"I just want you to fit in, Cal," I told him.  I don't know if he understands that.  I really don't understand why I said it.  Aside from it being true (I do want him to fit in), he doesn't need to wear a sports team's shirt on "wear your favorite sports team's garb" day at school to fit in.  Just being Cal is enough -- from what I've observed and heard, everyone loves Cal.

That's pretty much how it went down.  I was obviously frustrated but, in my mind, clearly not angry.  It makes me sad that Cal thought I might be angry over that. First of all, it was way too simple and shallow a scenario for me to be angry. Second of all (and this gets to the thought-provoking characterization of the question), I don't think I want him to worry whether something he does or says will make Dan and me angry or not.  Rather, I want him to wonder if it's the right thing to do and generally follow the path of "do what's right," understanding he may stray at times and that's all a part of the process.

I had a pretty fantastic childhood and believe that my parents "done good" by me.  I have no complaints.  However they did it, I think they taught me pretty well to "do what's right" (admitting I've had a few slip-ups along the way).  However, I do think that I spent a higher percentage of time than the average kid did worrying about what my parents might think of my actions and decisions; and I don't want Cal to do the same.  Not that it was terrible being like that... and not that my parents would have disapproved of my actions and decisions (except for the obvious "I don't think I like that" response my dad gave me when I informed him at 16 I'd be going on a double-date with my friend, Pam, just before I backed out of said double-date... never to date again until basically prom at 18).

Have I gotten angry at Cal? Yes, I have. I know I've told him, "I'm getting angry" on a few occasions. Earlier today, I witnessed him hit the cat and heard him use phrases like, "I hate you" and unwords like "bammit." These things made me angry because we have repeatedly asked him to not do or say them, all in the interest of developing a good kid, one who will know to "do what's right."

I think it boils down to this: I do want Cal to consider what Dan and I may think of his actions and decisions, but I don't want him to be paralyzed by it.  I want him to respect us as having a pretty decent "moral compass," a pretty decent sense of what it means to "do what's right."  His asking me if I was angry over his lack of cooperation over his outfit for tomorrow seems like an early sign that he's headed down the path of being a parent pleaser. (Of course, being on the receiving end of an "I hate you" earlier in the day contradicts that.)

So, he's 4 and still developing into "Cal."  I think we have some time to change things up a bit.  I'm not sure how or if change is needed, but mental note made.