Karma Strikes Back

I was talking to my mother on the phone the other day while Elizabeth was sitting in her booster for a meal, when Elizabeth started screaming, hitting the tray, pitching food over the side, etc. in her attempt to make me realize she wanted down. My mother began laughing. Not chuckling, not giggling and certainly not feeling sympathetic. No folks, she was laughing and making no effort to disguise it. Then she said, "boy, I don't know anyone who was like that as a toddler." Har har Mom. Boy is she enjoying this.

I have discovered as of late (see my very first entry on this blog about Elizabeth), that she IS NOT easier than her brother, it is NOT easier the second time around, and boy am I in for it because Karma has struck back for my mother folks, and she's striking back BIG TIME.

#1 - Elizabeth is not intimidated by me. William, even at 14-15 months (like Elizabeth is now) was already cowed by my stern voice. One stern "NO!" and he would look at me wounded, stop what he was doing, and come to me. Not so, his sister. "NO!" produces either a) laughter, b) running in the opposite direction from mommy, c) an attempt to bite mommy, d) an "AGH!" of protest or e) slapping wildly at mommy. I am trying to find the "tool" that will work with her and so far distraction, removal and "no!" do not work. Any ideas folks?

#2 - Elizabeth is NOT an easy eater. She'll try to suck you in dear friends. She sits there with her little blonde curls, her little gap-toothed smile all nice in her booster as you put food in front of her. She doesn't throw it or make faces at it. And you think... "aha! I can feed her anything", but then the "eating" begins. First of all, she LICKS most of her food first. If it doesn't stand up to the first lick, over it goes (to happily waiting dogs). Now sometimes, it passes the lick test, only to fail the texture test. This is when she puts the bite in her mouth and begins the chewing process. "Victory!" you think. Not so fast folks, not so fast. All of a sudden out comes her tongue in a "blah" kind of motion (as if she were preparing for the doctor to use the tongue depressor) and the offending item comes rolling/sliding/falling out. Half chewed, gooey and all over herself or bib or tray. Super. Here's the kicker. You would think that means that she doesn't want that particular food, but wait there's more. She may actually LIKE what you're serving, it's just that THAT PARTICULAR bite did not meet her standards. Case in point, hash browns this morning. Some were apparently crispy and seasoned enough for her tastes, while others were lolled back out on her tongue with a look of disgust for emphasis. At that point I wanted to start throwing food.

#3 - she's a climber. I used to laugh when my mom would say that she put me in gymnastics to save her furniture. Now I know why she said it. You see, William never climbed anything. I would look blankly at mothers who talked about not being able to turn around for fear of finding their child on top of couches, chairs, toilets, play structures, etc. Now I am that mother. What kills me is she is TINY. The girl is in the whopping 12th height percentile and is so slight she's not heavy enough to merit the "big girl" car seat most kids get at 1 years old. Doesn't stop her though. She can sling her tiny little leg up almost as high as her head, so when she wants to climb up on something, instead of crawling, she slings her little leg up, digs her heel in and then uses the leverage to help her little arms PUUUUUULLL herself onto whatever she wants on. The ottoman I thought was too tall for her? Hah! I turned around the other day to see her standing on it and bouncing up and down. Her brother's bed? HE STILL needs the stool to climb up on it and it can still be a struggle for him...today, she stands on the stool and does her little leg-slinging trick and she's up. Agh! I have now found her on or halfway up the ottoman, our couch, our end tables, a toilet, the side of the bathtub and a chair. I'm going to look into toddler gymastics. They have it right?! I've got to save my furniture (and her from breaking open that cute little head).

#4 - Elizabeth likes to spite me. I'm not kidding people. This is not accidental. She LIKES it. Exhibit A - the talking. We have begun teaching her some very important words because I'm getting VERY sick of being screamed at. So we taught her "down" when she wants to get down. This lasted about two weeks, then the novelty wore off and Operation Spite Mom began. Two days ago she began doing everything BUT saying down. I look at her when I know she's finished (hard to miss with food dropping to the floor) and say "down?". Now, instead of repeating down I get screaming, crying, dropping her head onto the tray or my favorite (and the routine this morning) saying everything but! She started crying and then the following:
Me: Down?
Elizabeth: Uh mamamamama.
Me: Down?
Elizabeth: Baby
Me: Down?
Elizabeth: buh buh buh buh buh
Me: Elizabeth! Down?!
Elizabeth: MWAAAAAGGHH! Mama.
Me: E-LIZ-a-BETH!!! Down?
Elizabeth: Dadadadadada
Me: AAAGGGHH! Elizabeth, say down.
Elizabeth: uh oh
Me: (breathing to stay calm).. down, Elizabeth, do you want down?
Elizabeth: Booo Beeee
I had to walk away and leave her in her chair while I cleaned up the dishes and William played. Every so often I would just say "Down" over my shoulder. She mostly laughed. Then William walks up to her and says, Down Elizabeth? She shouts, "DOOOOOWWWWW" (she can't pronounce the "n" sound) and then claps expectantly at me. I clapped, let her down and tried not to feel defeated.

#5 - Elizabeth DOES NOT want to be dressed or diapered. I believe I have mentioned previously in the blog that diapering Elizabeth is like wrangling an octopus. Well folks, that has now extended to putting clothes on her as well. She ends up screaming and all tangled up in her shirts because she's freakin' wrestling me as I try to dress her. I've gotten both legs in one pant leg a million times because she kicks the crap out of me as I try to put pants on her. I've chased a buck-naked or half-dressed toddler through our playroom far too many times because when she doesn't want to be dressed she's suddenly as slippery as a greased pig. I've given up on a changing table long ago because I have more leverage with her on the floor, but you kinda feel bad using a 108 lb weight advantage on a toddler. Of course, sometimes, you gotta do what you gotta do!

I have to remember I asked for this folks. Not content to have one, I pressed my luck and got my girl. "One of each!" everyone says happily for us. Yep, I think. I got my over-sensitive, has to have the last word, afraid of the dark, eye-rolling side of me in my boy. And now my fiesty, pig-headed, loud, difficult, clothes-hating, diaper-hating side of me in my girl. Yep, one of each. And my mother is enjoying every bit of this.