Toddler Trials

I want to preface the post with the statement that I love my little toddler with all of my heart. She is the sweetest, smartest, most adorable kid in the world 95% of the time...But when she is bad, she is horrid. The age of two is so legendarily rife with strife (hee) it has procured it's own notorious label, the "terrible twos." Today I got a taste of the terrible. My husband had a service club commitment early this morning. I realize this sounds kind of high school, but he seriously is in a service club for grown men. They do lots of community service, and he was out of the door by 6am (for a change) to be there. Any other time, my little one would snooze until 8 or 8:30, allowing me a rare chance to "sleep in." Not so today. "Mommy and Daddy (we are one, you see)!" the strident command coming through loud and clear on the static-filled baby monitor,"{kid's name} is HUNGY!" (That isn't a typo.) I roll over, pray that she finds a binky in her bed and is overcome with sleepiness. "Daddy and Mommy??" again, loud and clear, "Come heeah, peese?1...2...3..." Argh. The counting thing is my fault. I give her to the count of three to get things done (or to stop doing something, whatever it takes). I drag myself out of bed, drag her out of her bed, change her diaper, and take her back to my room. "NO SEEPING, Mommy!" (Dammit!) " {kid's name} wants cheese and bar." This is toddler speak for string cheese and a NutriGrain Bar, the standard breakfast fare. No more bed for me. We go downstairs, get her a cheese, a bar, some juice, and turn on "Cookie (code name for Sesame Street)." I check email, weigh in (down 3 pounds this week, woo hoo!), and celebrate weigh in by eating too many carbs for breakfast. I enter all my foods into the online food journal (averaging 1127 calories for the week, sweet!) and right about this time, "Cookie and Melmo" are over. Since I have patients to see and round on in the hospital this morning, it is shower time...For both of us.

My toddler is generally very psyched about bathing with mommy, so getting her upstairs and naked is relatively easy. Once in the shower, however, it starts to go downhill. I get about halfway through washing my hair, when she throws a mini-tantrum about inspecting the soap. Big deal, let her have the soap, right? I give her one caveat, "Don't touch your eyes with the soap, it will hurt. " "Ok!" Toddler immediately grabs the soap, it slips from her grasp, she picks it back up with one soapy hand...And with the other? RUBS HER EYE! Screams and tears and furious eye flushing with shower water ensue. I feel instant guilt for allowing my child to blind herself with the Zest..."It was....Soap Poisoning!!" I finish the shower with my 30 lb kid in one arm. Since her eye was assaulted, she no longer wants to be standing in the shower on her own. I get myself as reasonably clean as possible, turn off the shower, and get both of us out and into towels. You would think after her shower trauma, she would be pleased to exit the scene of the crime. Not so. She wants to stay *in* the shower. Another mini-tantrum follows, ending with her *peeing* on the floor and the bathmat. Then, she giggles. UGH! Mop up the pee. Mop her up. Throw it in the laundry room sink to deal with later (i.e. sometime next week). I proceed to her room to get her dressed and to avoid further potty incidents. Unfortunately for me, out of all of the bazillion cute clothes she has that fit her, she chooses a jumper which is in a pile of too-small-clothes-that-need-to-be-placed-in-a-neat-storage-container-but-Mommy-is-too-lazy-to-do-it-just-yet. It is an 18 mo size, and while it fits her body-wise, length-wise, her bottom is in the breeze. Better yet, she wants to wear only the jumper with no shirt or bloomers underneath. I put my foot down on the shirt and bloomers, get her hair into a ponytail, and get back into my room to get myself dressed.

The hits just kept coming while I was at work. She actually was really good for about 30 minutes, and this is a long time in toddler world. Unfortunately, I had two patients to discharge (this means lots-o-paperwork) and a circumcision to do. The nurses were great and helped out with her a lot. I was already mortified because her (cute) little butt was hanging out of her jumper, and while it was covered with cute bloomers, I felt like I couldn't dress my child respectably. Then, she (the little devil!) called another female physician (who really hates me and views me as her nemesis) "Mommy." This woman looks nothing like me, I swear. Finally it was a round of "The Boundary Game" better known as "Let's see how far mommy will let me go before she cracks..." She tried me, and found her boundaries firmly in place. She ended up squirming on my lap while I wrote notes and prescriptions with one hand. The final insult was, as we were leaving, a patient came up to the desk and exclaimed "What a good little nurse in training!" Last straw. I apologized for myself and her to the very nice nurses all the way out the door. I got her home, fed, and in bed for a much needed nap. Now I am eyeing up that new bottle of Riesling in the fridge, despite my self-imposed alcohol fast. It has truly been a day, and it is just barely afternoon! Of course, she was forgiven all when she whispered "Wuv you, Mommy, have a good day!" when I put her down for her nap. Love that little pumpkin. SUCKER!

P.S. "The One" WAS cancelled! Poor contestants! Poor "Flock of Segulls" Guy! Poor ME! Guess I should have voted.