Super

Super
And for once I was SuperMom

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Revenge

So far in Emma's little life I haven't wished that revengeful wish that 'she would get a child just like her.’ She’s been a pretty easy child with only the normal bumps and tears. I also think it’s close to immature for an adult to wish that on a child. I did however find myself wishing the other that when she is as heavy with child as I am now that there will something in her life that makes her get up and move around as much as she seems to require of me.
“Mommy, you want to jump with me?” No, honey, I really don’t.
“Can you show me how high you can jump?”
“Yeah!” She leaps around in sloppy circles, tantrum averted.

I think the thing about it that bothers me the most is the two year old lack of impulse control combined with the two minute attention span. She sees something or thinks of something and she wants it.
“I want my pink dress,” she blurts.
“Can you ask nicely?”
“Please?”
“Can you say, ‘Can I have my pink dress please?’” Okay, by the time I move this whole situation off the couch or chair I just plumped myself in and waddle over to her closet to get the pink dress, that I hid while she was potty training because she kept peeing in it, and waddle back in to the living room clutching the pink frothy tutu concoction in my hand she will have changed her mind.
“Can I have my pink dress, please?” Now, I’m sunk. Waddle, bend, strain, pink frilly tutu in hand…
“No!” She screams, runs across the living room and buries her head in the couch, “I don’t want it!”
What the what? So I waddle away deciding that maybe I should keep it hidden because apparently it’s more than she can handle right now.
“No! I want my pink dress!” Another wail. I keep walking. I’m sticking to it, no pink dress.

This dance is repeated throughout the day. I ignore about half the requests she makes, I just ride them out, because in a minute she is going to want something else.
Earlier today I was seated on the couch and Emma dropped the blanket she was playing with on the ground,
“Can I have my blanket?” She asks me. I sat for a moment and debated on whether or not it would take her more effort to get the blanket or me. I succumbed and heaved myself up, leaned over, feeling the hard pressure of the baby, and got it for her.
Sigh.
Good thing they're cute, right?

1 comment:

Heather said...

Lol :) I so sympathize. My son was just over a year old while I was very pregnant with my second one and I remember the exhaustion!