Waaaaah!

Um, I thought I'd get at least a couple more months before toddlerhood makes a tantrum-filled appearance in our household.  I don't mean to exaggerate.  I'm sure the little crying bouts Ella has been having when she doesn't get her way are mild compared to a true toddler tantrum, but where has my little infant gone?  The sweet little baby that is always so mild-mannered?  My little snuggle bug that laughs and smiles and tells jokes (in her own way, of course)?

Now, when she keeps pointing to her snack cup and I don't give it to her because she's supposed to be eating breakfast, she freaks out.  Cries and points, cries and points.  "Don't you see, Mama?" she says, "I want puffs.RIGHT.NOW!  I'm pointing.  I'm telling you.  WHY AREN'T YOU GIVING THEM TO ME?"  Now, when I tell her "That's not for Ella," when she goes to grab the books off our bookshelf, she stiffens her body and makes a high-pitched squeal.  "But I WANT to tear the pages out!" she insists.  Now, when I lay her down to change her diaper, she kicks and rolls over, straightens her legs so I can't wrap the velcro around.  "I want to streak, Mama," she pleads.  "No, not the pants!  I don't WANT pants!"

I knew there would be a day when we would butt heads and have our "moments".  I knew she had inherited my stubbornness and insistence that she could do it best.  I saw a glimpse of that when she was determined to feed herself finger foods at six months instead of being spoon-fed the purees I made her.  She takes so much pride when she is able to accomplish a task.  I want to nurture her ability to make decisions for herself, to develop control over her impulses, and know her boundaries.  I refuse to take everything away just so she's not tempted to make the wrong decision.  After all, Remy needs his water bowl.  I like having curtains and pictures of our family on display.  There will always be canned food on the low shelf of our pantry, because it's always been that way.  We make accommodations for Ella's safety, of course, but at the end of the day, she needs to understand what is okay, and what isn't.  I'm a firm believer that children need to understand those invisible boundaries, so that they can apply them to their real-world experiences.  (But I digress.)

Even during those nights where she would cry and need to be rocked and held to sleep in the wee hours of the morning, I wasn't angry.  Tired, but never angry.  I knew she needed me, and it was my joy to be her comfort.  I knew one day I would get mad at her, even though it seemed impossible for me to feel that toward her at the time.  But now, as she nears her first birthday and a budding sense of independence, I start to feel the pangs of frustration and, yes, anger towards our inability to communicate with each other.  As she starts screaming in the restaurant because I can't give her (the too hot) noodles fast enough, I get a little... mad.  When she keeps throwing food on the floor to feed the pugs, I get a little... mad.

I am now faced with the reality of having to tell her "no" and wait out her little wails and cries because she can't understand why she can't have everything she wants.  I knew I would come to this point, I'm just sad that her infant days are over.  As she begins to explore and interact with the world around her, I realize the heavy task of teaching her right from wrong.  I know this is just the beginning of her pushing us, and us having to push back.  I know my mantra for the next few years will be that loving her means protecting her which means having to make the harder choices sometimes.  Thankfully, she is still very easy-going most of the time, so that I can still cherish these last few moments of an easily appeased (if not, distracted) baby.  This is parenthood, I know.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't daunted by what lays ahead.  But I am definitely grateful for this journey that we are all taking together.  I just hope it's one that's not too tantrum-filled.