Put your f@%#ing shoes on

This post is about selective memory. The photographs below depict the quiet, happy moments that occur between the countless stubborn stand off's, power-struggles and never ending rounds of 20 questions that make up a day in the life of my three year old son. Whoever came up with the idea of "terrible two's," must have killed their child well before they reached the age of three. Now maybe I'm dramatizing just a little, but Cohen can be a real asshole. I have literally been late to work on several occasions simply because Cohen didn't want to put on his shoes. I mean really, your not going to wear shoes? In the words of Walter Sobchack, "Cohen, this is not Vietnam, there are rules." But for every moment of contention and self absorption, there is an equally selfless and affectionate moment that balances out this delicate familial equation. So, instead of posting pictures of tantrums, tears and broken down baby gates (which I have), I have used selective memory to show off the quiet, beautiful moments I get to share with the most important person I know. Plus, I don't think Tana would appreciate the call from Child Protective Services wondering why Cohen is always screaming bloody murder.

 Tana and Cohen in the front yard.

Tana and Cohen in the front yard.

 Cohen and Tana rocking

Cohen and Tana rocking

 Tana and Cohen in the front yard.

Tana and Cohen in the front yard.

 Tana and Cohen in the front yard.

Tana and Cohen in the front yard.

 Tana and Cohen in the front yard.

Tana and Cohen in the front yard.

 Cohen sitting at the table

Cohen sitting at the table