Tempered

There are times when we don't get our way, that is just a fact of life.  Our little ones learn this fact at an early age, even though they don't understand it.  "Why not?  How come?  But I want  it!"  they say, or scream (with or without words).  Eliana is no different, and, at thirteen months, she is quite persistent, and determined, and willful, and confident, and persistent.  Oh, did I mention she's persistent?  Today she desperately wanted:  to type on the keypad, to get the camera, to stand up in multiple chairs around the house (which she can now climb into quite easily), to play the piano while Michaela was practicing, to write on Michaela's paper while she was doing her schoolwork, and NOT to take a bath (and boy, did she ever not want to do that tonight).  I try very hard to be consistent, especially with the standing up in a chair and not handling expensive "grown-up equipment."  She also had a bath, or a battle, whichever one you want to call it.  Good grief.  At any rate, the point is that unfortunately today she spent a lot of time in tears.  And please don't think I'm a terrible person, but I did get a picture: 

What a sweet, sad little face.  This was after a "No, you cannot type or have the camera" moment.  Those tears make me so sad, and, you know, as a mom I want to make them stop.  But I can't give in, or we'll be in BIG trouble, right?

Well, just so no one is too concerned with the girl's well-being (I am, after all, the kind of person who takes a picture of my daughter in the throes of self-pity and misery) here is what she looked like not five minutes later:

 

 She was eating cheese.  This calmed her soul at least for a minute.  She did spit the cheese out after she chewed it up.  I don't have a picture of that.

I love this girl, and I want her to be happy.  It is a struggle as a parent, at least for me, to stay sane enough to say, "no" at the right times, to pick those battles wisely, and to be consistent.  Sometimes it would be so much easier to let her stand in the chair, or sit on the school table.  But I do want to teach her to listen to what I say, and to obey.  These lessons start now, even though she's so small-she's smart as a whip.  And whips sting, don't they?  And even though it hurts me sometimes to stand strong (and take her out of the chair 72 times in a row, because remember, she's persistent) and make her sad, I hope that one day she realizes I want her to be safe and happy.  Strange how that works, isn't it?

Comments

[Kristina Zirschky]

Great pictures. Oh my word. I just love it. She is soooo adorable. As are your other kids. And you are so right. You have to stand your ground or it will just be ten times worse.