She's Cra Cra
CRAZY. Maybe its me, but Tiny's opinion is getting, well, more opinionated. This morning she wanted waffles (but not those waffles), strawberries (but not cut like that mama!), yogurt (not the GREEN bowl you moron!!) Milk! Smoothie! Water! How many drinks can this little woman demand?!? She only has two hands! And, what do I look like her own personal barista? Yesterday she wanted to swim. We swam for a good hour in the morning. She was a fish! I was so proud of her kicking, her bubble blowing. She was even hoisting herself out of the pool from the side. Flash forward one nap, and four hours later and we are headed to swim lessons and I am hopeful. But, the whole way there she thought we were going to the Splash Park (Lord knows why?), and she was more than disappointed when we rolled up at Cooper's house for lessons with Miss Courtney. We lug our stuff poolside and she refuses to get in. She's whimpering, and whining and I'm desperately trying not to pull my hair out. I got myself in a bathing suit for this! I'm in the pool! Why can't you just pull it together and get in because I want you to? She's staring at the other kiddies, thought bubble forming above her stubborn adorable head... "you fools." They're swimming, and they're younger than her! Oh the shame!
Suddenly (after standing on the pool step for about 30 minutes) something peaks her interest. Could be another mom's rousing rendition of "Pop Goes the Weasel?" I'll never know, but at last she wants to be a weasel too! She's in. She won't swim to the teacher, but she'll swim away from her (crying). She won't jump in forward, but she'll jump in backward (so weird, but I'll take it). The lesson ends about five seconds later, and I'm thinking the money was totally worth it.
Later that night I'm giving her a bath. Tiny likes bath time. But, typically she does not like shampoo time...until last night. What usually generates tears, is now inspiring giggles. The shampoo is dripping in her eyes and she's smiling about it. Twenty minutes later, the water has grown tepid, her digits resemble prunes and its "baby burrito time!" We wrap her up tighter than a Chipotle special and she loves it usually...except tonight she doesn't. Tonight she'd prefer to air dry. After a P.J. Battle... "Liesee do it!!" (Except Liesee can't do it because she can't seem to master which hole the arm goes in. And, truth is, I think she knows this but is hoping that we don't know that she knows. This is what they call in the toddler biz a stall tactic.) Followed by a Book Battle..."Liesee read it!!" (Except Liesee wants you to read a different book at the exact same time she is 'reading' her book. This reading duel has the opposite effect bed time stories are supposed to have. I find it chaotic and unnerving. And, again, I think she knows.) ...she is at last in bed. The great thing about all this opinion spewing is that it makes her tired. But, it also makes this mama tired too. And, as a woman with an opinion or two herself I find the battles have left me too exhausted to even care what ice cream I shovel down my throat to cope with the day. When hubs asks, I just grunt...which is code for strawberry chip in a small white bowl with a little spoon...but, not that spoon. ;)