I'm Sorry!

Andy's been apologizing entirely too much lately.  In the grand spectrum of preschooler problems, having a child who is TOO sorry is probably way preferable than having one who shows little to no remorse at all.  And yet, I am starting to grow weary of hearing Andy say, "I'm sorry, Mommy" and "I'm really very sorry, Mommy."  The thing is, it's not that I doubt the sincerity of his apologies.  Andy is very sincere.  The problem is that he is too sincere, too sorry, too apologetic, too remorseful over what amounts to trivial or nonexistent issues.  The problem is that he cares too much.  Someone needs to tell this kid to man up already.

Here is a short list of what Andy has apologized for in the past two days.

- Dropping a macaroni on the floor.

- Walking too slow.

- Walking too fast.

- Wanting dessert.

- Pushing Alex out of the wagon so that the baby tumbled out head first (Note: This was the one warranted apology, and possibly the least sincere.)

- Talking during story time.

- Asking me to pick him up when my hands were full.

- Wanting to wear a different shirt.

- Having dirty hands.

- Putting his shoes on incorrectly.

- Peeing in his pull-up while asleep.

- Mispronouncing "caterpillar" as "helicopter."  The Very Hunger Helicopter, indeed!

I have tried to explain that Andy need not be sorry for certain things, but when I tell Andy he doesn't need to be sorry for, say, sliding down the slide too fast, he is quick to frown and apologize for apologizing.  In many ways, I feel like something has snapped in Andy and he has switched bodies with myself as an insecure seventeen year old.  And in an alternate universe, sixteen years ago, a teenaged Jackie is suddenly obsessed with watching men unload trucks, excavators dig dirt, and saying hello to every single person in the grocery store.

I wonder if I did this to Andy, if I made him feel like he needs to constantly be sorry.  A couple of weeks ago, we had one of those trying days in which I did a lot of yelling and put him into numerous time outs.  Granted, if my memory serves me correctly, the time outs were mostly deserved and my yelling wasn't entirely unjustified, but it was the kind of aggravating day that all stay at home mothers have every once in a while (I assume) where I felt like I was losing my mind and all I wanted was fifteen seconds of silence in which to pour myself a glass of water.  When I did not get those fifteen seconds and instead had to deal with Andy screaming about Alex and Alex screaming about wanting to drink Drano, I did my own fair amount of screaming, and next thing I knew, Andy was apologizing for everything.  And he's been apologizing ever since, despite a lack of screamy, crazy-go-nuts sort of days and instead a lull of quiet, mostly pleasant ones.  And it is only now I ask myself- which came first, the apologizing chicken or the mild-manner egg of days?

I want this period of extreme contrition to pass, as I obviously don't want to raise children who constantly feel at fault.  And yet, I don't want ALL of this contrition to pass.  Boys, it is good to feel sorry when you have truly done something wrong and hurtful.  And it is good to say it aloud and admit that you were wrong.  This is a good lesson for every grown man I have ever met, and it is grown men that I will eventually have raised.  But, Andy, you must not cross that fine line from secure, occasionally regretful boy to insecure, despairing wimp.  I guess maybe this is a conversation we can revisit when you are a teenager and no longer my little, eager to please three year old.