Okay, I admit it: All too often I get my butt kicked by a not-quite two year old. Today has been one of those days and it's barely halfway over. It goes something like this:7:30 am awakening- Zoe is NOT a morning person (she gets that from her Mommy, I have to admit). Beginning the day with fifteen to twenty minutes of snuggling in the rocking chair immediately upon lifting her out of her crib sometimes helps. Today it didn't. Today we spent the "token twenty" which led into my suggestion that we have breakfast. I, for one, was starving and had not managed to consume my breakfast prior to Dear Daughter's awakening.
Zoe ignored my suggestion (plea) to get dressed and go downstairs for breakfast until a few minutes later when she quite suddenly began wailing and whining about drinking milk and eating cereal. When Zoe wants something, she wants it NOW in the very same instant that the thought occurs to her.
I managed to get Zoe dressed with only a minimal fit.
8:00 am breakfast- NOTHING quite makes Zoe happy. She wanted hot cereal. She didn't want to wait for it to be cooked. I distracted her with some milk first. She didn't like the cup it was in. I tried a new cup, then some prunes. The cup and prunes worked for two minutes. Meanwhile, I attempted to pull together a simple bowl of cereal for myself before I DIED from a growling stomach (pregnancy can be like that). Then a big fit over needing her hands wiped because she had gotten the prunes on them. Then the cereal. Zoe loves yogurt and so I figured she was low on milk and I hadn't made it to the store. Why not try some yogurt instead of milk in it? Zoe didn't like the yogurt. She wanted "regular" cereal. I dumped the contents of that bowl down the drain and tried again. Another fit because her milk cup was empty. I gave her the "regular" cereal and sat down with my now quite soggy bowl of shredded wheat. Zoe sees my bowl of cereal and decides she wants Chex instead of her hot cereal. I attempt to take the second bowl of hot cereal, but then there is another fit with whining statements of "Eat it!" I leave the bowl of unwanted cereal on her highchair tray and get busy getting the Chex. Then there's a fit that she wants them "dry" but is simultaneously gesturing towards the milk. I put on the milk and she whines that she wants them "dry." I again try to take the unwanted bowl of hot cereal only to have another fit of "Eat it!" I leave the unwanted bowl and the new bowl of Chex with the milk and add a handful of dry Chex onto her tray thinking surely one of these options will satisfy her long enough for me to eat my own soggy cereal before I pass out.
Zoe is content for a few minutes and so I get busy cleaning up the major mess that led up to finding something satisfactory for her to eat for breakfast. Thrity seconds into my cleaning effort there's is a fit about "Mommy snuggle!" This means Dear Daughter wants to be held for another twenty minutes or longer and then have me be right by her side for the rest of the morning. I had a big mess and lots of food to put away. I leave her in her chair trying to explain that she needs to wait until Mommy is finished. Unrelenting crying and whining and fit pitching ensues until I finally have the mess minimally cleaned up.
8:30 am More Snuggle Time- I hold Dear Daughter for another 20 minutes until she appears to have calmed down enough to peel herself away from full body contact with me. She appears content to play by herself, so I get up to finish cleaning up the kitchen beyond the minimally acceptable earlier attempt. Thirty seconds later another fit about "Mommy help ya!" That means I'm supposed to go sit by her side and play with her again. If I don't, we have another long drawn out dramatic on-and-on wailing fit that will escalate until the time at which I decide to pay attention to her. The rest of the morning goes this way until time to prepare lunch. So much for my plans to go the super market to get more milk for Dear Daughter. Being at home with her is tough enough right now. Who wants to try to take that out in public?
I forgot to mention that by 9:00 one of my so-tired-I-can't-keep-my-eyes-open pregnant symptoms hits me and lingers the rest of the morning. I feel miserable.
11:00 am Prepare Lunch- I allow Zoe to busy herself standing on her stool at the kitchen sink. She fills cups and bowls with water and dumps them. This keeps her relatively content and I throw an occasional reminder her way to keep the water in the sink and not on the floor. She does pretty well. Until the big bowl of water gets dumped down her front side and all over the floor. I bite my tongue to keep from reacting. "She's only two." I tell myself. "Water cleans up." I ignore the mess and try to finish lunch. Chicken Enchiladas. There will be leftovers for Dear Husband when he comes home early with Dear Daugher today, I reason. And leftovers for me when I get home late from work. I forget to leave out some plain chicken for Dear Daughter. I silently hope she will decide she is satisfied with the enchiladas.
11:30 am- Dear Daughter resists all suggestions I make that it's time for lunch.
11:40 am- Dear Daughter decides she wants lunch. NOW! Dear Daughter refuses to use her potty chair first.
11:45 am- Dear Daughter seems excited about enchiladas. I am relieved and excited to hear her say "Like this!" There are very few positive expressions in her vernacular these days.
11:50 am- Dear Daughter has a meltdown for "white chicken!" which means plain chicken NOT included in the enchiladas. I do not have any. I convince her to eat other things. Then a sudden exclamation of "Pee pee!" I hope she hasn't already done so, but as I quickly pull her out of her highchair, bib still intact, and head to the potty chair, she is wet. A little makes it in the pan. I am frustrated and wish I would have forced her to pee in her chair against her will before lunch (like that ever works, anyway). I ask her if she is done eating. She ignores me and runs away, bare buns flashing and bib flapping in the breeze. I let her go and busy myself cleaning up AGAIN. Then a sudden "Eat!" NOW, of course. She decides she is not done eating after all. I grab her firmly to wrestle her down and force some dry pants on her. My patience is all but gone. I try to reason with myself, "I'm a 33 yr-old grown adult; she's not even 2. GET A GRIP!" I put her in her highchair and convince her to eat cottage cheese. She eats half of it and then insists on holding her stuffed kitty. She is not swayed by my caution that kitty will get dirty (this usually works). She will not let me take away the plate that still contains cottage cheese. "Eat it!" she yells each time I try. Each time I give up and leave it there and she doesn't touch it. Whatever. I let it go. She appears content for several minutes, and I frantically try to clean up the new mess I've created in the kitchen. Then the sudden "Mommy snuggle!" NOW!
Noonish- I manage to get her down for her nap and pray for tolerance and patience until the point at which I can hand her off to her Daddy on my way to work this afternoon.
Yes, today I got my butt kicked by a not-yet two year old. Good thing she's cute.
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