El terrible grandulon

The big bully.
A less than stellar day over here in the world formerly known as Domi's. Just yesterday we were at the park and Domingo met a little girl who was a total kindred spirit. Unis just moved here from Germany, and speaks no English. She is a little 3 year old who speaks French, Albanian and German. She and Domi looked like they could be siblings, both with golden brown hair and brown eyes, laughing and playing in the park. Domingo was trying to get her to run around with him. He was showing her his sticks and going down the "biggest" slide with her. It was too cute. I was breathing a sigh of relief that, yes, finally, he's starting to behave like a normal social 2 year old.
Then today at the park, a little boy, not quite two decided to play in "Domi's" sandbox. He had a ball, and actually wanted to share it with Domi. Domi was playing fine, throwing the ball back to the boy and they were doing great. Then Domi leaned back and SHOVED this poor little kid right onto his butt.
I gasped and grabbed Domingo and picked up the stunned boy and apologized for being such a terrible mother. Actually, I apologized and then put Domi in time out for two minutes. I sat with him while the other little boy played on the park toys and explained that we never ever hit or push other people. I asked him to say he was sorry, which he did, although I've read that you aren't supposed to make children say they are sorry because it's not genuine. I was so embarrassed, mortified and although I was joking about the "bad mother" thing, that is really how I felt.
Me, so smug a few months ago reading mommy blogs rant and rave and pull their hair out over bad little boys who hit and kicked and bit and pushed. Not MY child. He's so sweet and gentle and loving. He would NEVER do that. Those people must be raising the next Hitler. Oh hubris, you win again. Won't we ever learn?
But honestly, lately Domingo has been a little destructocon. He runs around knocking on mirrors and windows and his sister's head. He tosses the piles of folded laundry or diapers from the diaper bag and rolls around in the mess. He bashes his toys into one another and is just such a "boy". ARGH!
So here we are, tired, frustrated, and afraid to go back to the park in case godzilla strikes again. But the only way to learn is to get out there and try try again, and hopefully there will be more encounters like yesterday and fewer like today.