Tuesday, June 5, 2012

wrangling the feral cat

How do toddlers know the exact moment you are getting ready to walk out the door and choose it to announce "Pee pee potty time??!" Even though you have been asking them repeatedly every 3 minutes if they need to use the potty. It is like the exact moment when you slither out the door from the floor beside their bed as they have finally started snoring, and suddenly their hand is on the light switch, standing up in a half second with a "Gotcha" look on their face? Or my personal favorite, that second you click open your email when they have been happily playing with blocks on the floor for five minutes and like lightening they are at your side, "Bites Mommy! Hungry!"
Our life has been the epitome of toddlerhood lately. One minute Lila is sweetly staring up at me asking "Hold you Mommy" with her arms outstretched (those pronouns are so stinking tricky). The next she is throwing her fork at the dog and arching herself backwards out of her high chair in what will either end up in a perfect Olympic dismount or a trip to the ER. 
I am loving the sweet tickles and learning to sing all of the words to Five Little Speckled Frogs. I am learning to love the tantrums that I know are allowing her to better understand rules and social norms and her own place in life. The sillyness is what gets me the most, when she very seriously looks at me and says, "Mommy hair messy" first thing in the morning and then bursts into laughter trying to pat my curly afro down. I know that the tantrums will continue to spread out over time and I will not always be the mom at Target abandoning half full grocery carts to make a mad dash out the exit with a feral cat squirming out of my arms.  But at the same time, I will soon not have the baby that snuggles up in my lap at the end of the day with her paci and Grinch stuffed animal and sings herself to sleep.

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