The yin and yang of empathy

On the heels of Evan's little aha moment this week, I must note -- with great frustration -- that Grover falls down a lot. And the tears, so charming only a few short nights ago? They are getting old fast, as are the endless discussions about clumsy monsters who are really just fine which must follow each sobfest.

As I see it at this point, I am left with 2 options. I can either rent out my child and his Sesame Street videos to drought-stricken countries and put the bucketloads of tears that will surely ensue to good use, or we can move on to greener pastures and simply avail ourselves of slightly less disquieting children's television around here. A simple decision, one would thing, given the vast array of children's programming from which one can choose these days. However, Evan still refuses to watch anything in which his beloved Cookwah is not prominently featured. And truthfully, I don't think that "solve the world's drought problems" idea is really all that realistic either. Regrettably, the bottom line appears to be that until this stage passes, my little hour-long refuge from hands-on parenting during which I used to be able to make dinner and recharge for the bedtime routine is a goner.

And so we are at an impasse. Many tears. Much discussion. No break for Mommy. No end in sight. As Evan's empathy phase rises to a fervent pitch, I find my own empathy beginning to wane frighteningly in response. Ironic, aint it?