Me or the wii?

We were running late for church today and it wasn't any day to be late.  It was Stake Conference.  The Sunday when sitting on the hard seats for a good 2 hours takes on a whole new meaning.  

Ryder was crying.  He didn't want to go.  So I threatened and tried reverse psychology.  "See you sweetie! Love you.  We'll be home in a few hours.  Actually, we won't be home for a very long time and I'm going to be so sad if a scary burglar breaks in and takes you.  Mommy will cry very hard if you're gone" I said as I made my way towards the door. I heard him say, "okay."  He still didn't move from the couch.  Dang.  I tried a new tactic. I pretended to shut the door and leave.  "Goodbye.  You'll be all alone" I said one last time.  I listened.  Nothing.  No crying child running to the door after his mommy.  No, "please don't leave me." Nothing.  I waited another minute.  Then I poked my head around the corner to see him heading downstairs to play the wii.  He chose the wii over me.

Me.  The woman that spent hours birthing him into this world. 

(Okay, so I had an epidural the minute I walked through the hospital doors, felt no pain the entire time and only pushed once, but I like the sound of birthing him into the world).

 Doesn't he remember the wonderful Toy Story birthday party

we threw for him last July?

Or the fun times spent playing with me in the snow outside with a hot chocolate mustache/goatee?

 Or how about when Santa showed up to have

breakfast with us last Christmas?

Do these things mean nothing to him? 

How could he choose to be left alone for hours with

burglars knocking on the door and no mommy to protect him?  My other two boys would have been screaming after me to not leave them. 

What has happened?  Is it the last child syndrome? Have I given him too much independence?  He is only three, but...

I suddenly snapped back to reality and remembered that unless we left immediately, I would be sitting uncomfortably for the next two hours. It was no more Mr. Nice Mommy.  "Get up here and get up here now! 

We have to leave for church and no wii!" I screamed.

(No wonder the kid would rather stay home alone). 

He came up the stairs crying and I carried him to the car kicking and screaming.  It's okay though.  This little experience taught me that there are going to be days when my kids choose "things" over me.  Whether it's their friends, toys, sports or something else, the important thing is that I'm here when they do need me and that learning to play the wii and play it well will only help me to be the one they choose.