Last night, Aidan told me he did not like me.  Yes, my four year old boy is telling me he doesn’t like me!  He was mad at me because it was bed time and I had told him he was done playing the computer for the night.  He wanted to stay up longer and play.  It was already half and hour past his bed time and given that he does not take naps anymore and that he gets up pretty early, I am concerned that his lack of sleep is stunting his growth.  So I just smiled at him and played along. 

Do you not like me this much (stretching my arms out wide)?
Yes.
Or do you not like me this much (brings my arms closer)?
Yes.  I don’t like you Mommy.
Do you like Daddy?
Yes, I like Daddy (knife twists harder).
Aidan you don’t have to like Mommy but Mommy loves you.

I give him a hug and leave him in William’s capable hands while I go to get Mark ready for bed. 

I didn’t think he was supposed to start this phase until he was well into his teens.  I know he has no idea what he said hurt.  I know he doesn’t mean to say such things or cause such pain.  He’s still little and it was his way of trying to convey to me his annoyance of not getting to do what he wanted.  Yet, knowing all these things does not make his words hurt any less. 

I tried to explain to him this morning that I was upset by what he had said last night, but I think my words fell on deaf ears.  I guess this is a good experience to prepare me for things to come when he is older and is some what conscious of his words.  I wish my skin gets thicker by then.