So there he is, coming towards me, arms outstretched, reaching for me. My heart melts as he wraps them around my neck in a sweet embrace. But just as I whisper in his ear ‘I love you baby’, my head is suddenly jerked back and I feel a searing pain as a clump of hair is ripped from my head. Tears stream from my eyes and I stifle a cry as I see strands of my hair hanging from his fist.

‘WHY YOU LITTLE BRAT…’ I start to say, but can hardly keep a straight face as my one year old son crinkles up his face and says, ‘MOMMA!’

In spite of myself, I giggle and scoop him up in my arms and kiss him repeatedly on his soft, chubby cheeks. I just can’t get enough of my little man.

In response to my affection, Maksim snuggles his face into the crook of my neck and I feel my heart strings being pulled freshly taut. But just before the urge to devour him overtakes me, I feel four pointy little teeth sink into my neck.

I scream and hold my son at arms length. He is giving me a toothy grin. I check my neck for marks and am relieved that there is no blood.

I set my son on the floor and sit down to collect myself. I am beginning to catch on to this game that he is playing with me, but I am baffled at the contradiction of his love for me and his need to hurt me at the same time. I am not really sure what to do.

But what I’m sure I’m NOT going to do is put up with it.

Ever since I can rememeber, I told myself that I wouldn’t be one of those mothers who would think that just because my child is adorable that I would let him get away with everything.

I remember my mother telling me that when I was little, I was really cute, but I whined all the time. But being the baby of the family, she just let it go. Until oneday, one of her friends told her that no one thought I was cute anymore because my whining was so awful.

But now I see where she was coming from. It seems that with a third child, tolerance levels go up. Behaviour that should be modified, often goes unnoticed and unpunished. Unfortunately, I see my little boy and I fitting into this category more and more as the days go by.

So what to do?

Here I am, at this moment, sitting on the couch, watching my son. His pudgy little hand reaches out to touch my face and I am surprised when he gently caresses my cheek. I know he loves me…even as his gentle caress turns into a slap.

This time though, there will be no laughing. No, this time I will not be duped by his sparkling eyes, chubby cheeks and toothy grin. This time I won’t melt. And I will tell you why.

I want my son to be cute and loved by everyone, not just by me.