The other day, I can't remember which, was going as most of our days have been going lately. Linus was following me around making unreasonable requests and getting extremely upset when alternatives were offered. Something happened, I can't remember exactly what, and he got mad, crying and flailing, accepting no comfort. When something happens, we generally talk about it. I empathize and validate and he does or does not agree that I really care about his well being. I must have said to him, "You are so mad about that. You are having such a hard time, my love." Time passed and we were getting in the car. I was buckling him into his car seat (but not the chest buckle! that one's for linus!), when he said to me, "Not so mad now. Better." It took me a while to process what he had told me, but when I realized that he had taken the time to check in with himself, think about it, then report back to me how he was feeling, I melted. Melted. My one-and-three-quarters-year-old remembered that he was sad, realized he felt better, and told his mother about it.
Emotional genius.
