Wow. What a day. And it’s only 2:45 p.m. I’ve had the kind of week with Emma that has made me question why I am staying home. She’s been a nightmare. I think we’ve hit the terrible twos/three at 18 months.
Mark picked her up from daycare and we met at Panera for lunch. Emma doesn’t like the food there normally (at least on the kid’s meals), so I packed up food for her. Ten minutes into lunch she threw all of her fruit on the floor. We took her out of her high chair and she refused to sit on the seat of the booth with Mark. She stood and we made her sit. She stood and we made her sit. Repeat the process.
I ran some errands with her, and I survived and she fell asleep on the way home. The transfer into the big girl bed went well, and she slept at least an hour. When she woke up, I was hopeful that everything would be fine. But we got downstairs, and the meltdown began immediate. See the first picture above.
I remade her lunch, and she wanted nothing to do with it. She didn’t want milk. I don’t even think she really wanted me to hold her since she kept crying. Of course, I had just started to make pasta salad for a friend who had a baby a few weeks ago. (Side note, she’s the closest thing I have to a relative in San Antonio [my cousin’s stepdaughter], and I’m JUST getting a meal over there and the baby is already two and half weeks old. Stellar, Teresa.) I set the timer for the pasta so I could deal with Emma. I figured that 7-8 minutes would be fine since that’s what it said on the package. I drained it when the timer went off and because this is my day…the pasta wasn’t cooked enough. So, I had to reheat the water and continue the process.
Meanwhile, Emma decided that she’d eat if she could sit at the island instead of her chair. And if she could use a fork. See pictures two and three. Of course, she decided she wanted down and back up a number of times. (And of course, everything is “up” since she doesn’t know how to say “down”.)
While down, she started playing with a package of diapers on the floor. She was using them as a step stool and fell. Meltdown again…just as I am finishing the pasta salad. So I put her in her chair for round three of lunch.
Once the pasta salad was done, I started dessert: brownies. She wanted down and was getting herself into trouble, trying to do maneuvers on the legitimate stool that would be sure to get her killed. I suggested that she go to the front room and read some books. Lo and behold, she did. (Angels sing, music chimes. How in the heck did that work?)
I finish the brownies and peek in on her. See pictures four and five above. She’s reading. She looks up and says hi.
I love this kid, but a year of staying home may quite make me insane. She’s too smart for her own good. And I know that is the majority of the problem. I can’t understand her…she’s using real words for some things but making up her own language for most of the other things. I haven’t been able to translate or even figure out if some of the made up words are legitimately being used for a real one.
Last night, she had her second swim lesson. I went in the pool with her this time to see if the lesson would go more smoothly. She cried the entire time again. Funny thing is…she still wants to go in our neighborhood pool. It hasn’t been warm enough, and she has never cried in there. I have no idea what is up with the swim lessons pool.
OK…time to see what my little monster is doing now. I know that today could have been and could be much worse. I’m pretty sure she picked up some bad habits from watching the kid Evan at daycare. I know it’s good for us to have a year together and many moms would kill to be a stay at home mom, even if it is just for a little while. So, I’m going to do my best to appreciate it. I just think I’ve started one of the hardest jobs I will ever have. OK. Writing time is up. Brownies are done.
