Monday, April 19, 2010

Cheese With That Whine?

My daughter is the light of my life. She brings me immeasurable joy. Her smile gives me a warm fuzzy bigger than I ever imagined possible. When she hugs me and tells me she loves me, when she puckers up to give me a kiss, I am one million thousand percent in love with her. My heart full to bursting.

Having said all of that, oh my god can she push my buttons:

- Kicking, wailing, screaming, when we brush her teeth. Every. Single. Time. I try to make it fun. I sing silly teethbrushing songs. I clap. I smile. And yet somehow it is still the ultimate torture. The only thing worse is washing her hair. Why is personal hygiene such a hardship?

- Vegetables? Hahahahahahahahaha. (deep breath) Hahahahahahahahaha. No.

- We live in an old house. Old houses have teensy weensy closets. As such, I have two racks full of shoes that sit outside the closet in our bedroom. Sophie goes to those racks and clears them, tossing shoe after shoe over her shoulder. I follow behind her and rerack them all (Some days/weeks, I just leave them, what's the point?). This happens almost every day. I can't count the number of times she has visited time out for this, and yet, she keeps doing it. With a gleam in her eye. Sadist?

- Laundry seems to be an irresistible commodity to her. Clean, dirty, folded - no matter. It all gets tossed out of the basket. This is most frustrating when it's a basket of freshly laundered clothes that I made the mistake of leaving her alone with.

- 7am. Can we just sleep until there's a 7 on the clock? I am a night owl. Always have been, always will be. No amount of sleep deprivation can consistently get me to sleep before midnight. This getting up at 6/6:30 stuff is for the birds. Why did I have to spawn a morning person?

- Dragging me outside, the horror, and then not sticking with any activity I try to engage her in for more than 23 seconds. I don't expect her to spend two hours sidewalk chalking, but come on, kid.

We attack each of these, and many more, every day. Much time is spent in Time Out. I know most are just symptoms of toddlerhood, but the knowing doesn't make them any less frustrating.

Ultimately I complain, because it's what I do, but the truth is that despite all this, that kid of mine is an awful lot of fun.


  1. I still wonder how my children could possibly have ended up morning people. A genetic anomaly, I feel sure, as my night owl gene is oh-so-dominant.

    And that dress of Sophie's?? Adorable! Why risk getting carrot stains on it? =>

  2. So glad someone else is "depriving" their child of vegetables...when I put them on Hailey's plate, she looks as me as if I have a mental defect. The shoe thing would drive me nuts...that's why my bedroom is a kid-free zone. Brushing the teeth?

  3. I don't think 2 of my 3 ate veggies til they were like 10. And I'm pretty sure it was only because they were threatened with something.

    Now they all love them.

  4. Agreed sheila...just keep putting them on the plate, one day she'll pop one in her mouth and actually like them! Isn't it amazing that someone can give us so much joy and a headache at the same time?!

  5. This is why I am absolutely certain that children are children, no matter where they grow up and who raises them. It's universal! No veggies, no naps, not paying attention, etc. :-)

  6. At least she's giving you blog fodder, right?

    (I, on the other hand, have nothing to write about. The well is dry.)

  7. I'm with you on the night owl thing. I have to force myself to go to bed before 11:00 p.m. these days, but I hate it.

    ALso, there is nothing my boys love more than a basket or pile of newly-folded laundry. Urgh.

  8. I go APE over the clean (sometimes dirty) laundry strewn through the house.

    Umm ... and at least she's not taking her clothes off constantly. In my house, it's naked boys, squared.

  9. It's the not-so-great moments that make us cherish the good ones right? Or at least that's what I tell myself so that I don't go on a murder spree.

  10. Z's the same way, screams bloody murder every time I brush his teeth or wash his hair. I figure if he's going to scream if I do it gently or just plow forward I might as well dive in and get the deed done.

    The shoe thing would drive me crazy. But these days I'm wearing either slippers or sneakers. I had to get rid of my beautiful shoe collection when pregnancy changed the shape of my feet. :(

    I think it's great that you make it a priority to take time for yourself (blogging). I need to take a page from your book and schedule some me time.

    ~Heidi P.

  11. My children always eat all their veggies, sleep sixteen hours a night, and put away their own laundry.


    Do French Fries count?

    You will appreciate her being an early riser when she has to start school. I promise. Not having to drag their weary butts out of bed every morning makes it worth it when they don't sleep in. Sorry you have a few more years to appreciate that one.

    And she is awfully cute in that dress. Sometimes it's their cuteness that saves their lives!

  12. Vegetables? Only if they're trying to prove me wrong. (Me to grandparent: O. won't eat those. He proceeds to eat an entire plate of green beans) Mine won't really eat ANYTHING. Not spaghetti, not pizza, not barbecued chicken. I am so tired of hearing the chorus of "This is YUCK!" when the two little ones approach the dinner table.
    But the biggest whine point around here lately? Whatever clothes Miss N. has decided she will only wear. Usually pajamas.

  13. Oh, vegetables! The bane of my existence. At an early age, I got my kids to like vegetable juices. So, that gives me a false sense of security.

    Adorable blog, I love how each post is a conversation. I'll be back.

    Thank you for stopping over at MEP's, so very nice to meet you!

  14. What really gets me is how my little one plays with everything but toys. Makes me nuts.

  15. Oh girl! Please come by and complain to me! I hear you 100%. You've got my day in a nutshell. The laundry, the 23 second attention span... ditto.

    Mine pout, too. "I'm sad" "I'm crying"

    You've got a friend. ;0)


Give me some sugar, baby!