Tonight I need to complain. We spent the entire day listening to Stephanie whine and cry. I tried so hard to justify it by telling myself that she's still recovering from her virus, and she just came off of a very busy few days. But honestly, there was a point where I just was done. I couldn't take it anymore, was at my wits end, and really really wanted a glass of wine. (Of course I didn't have one. But the temptation was there!)
It seems like lately everything with her is a battle. Brushing her teeth elicits a tantrum like no other. Time to eat? Nope, she wants to throw her food at us. (And she used to be the kid that would eat anything and everything, and in huge quantities.) If I try to force bites into her mouth, she clenches her lips together and shakes her head no. This doesn't happen all the time, but usually at least one meal a day is a struggle. Today was every meal, including snacks. She has no interest in the twelve billion toys she has, unless I sit right down with her and play. Today, even that wouldn't work. Luckily she took a 3 hour nap, which enabled me to relax and have a snickers bar. I definitely needed chocolate.
I know this is a phase, and that today was an extreme example of the toddler control issues she has going on. I know that it will pass, that she will get over it, and we'll forget how horrendous it was. She's being a 17 month old, and the most important thing is for us to keep our cool and not let her think she has the upper hand. All of this logic is so easy to say and to comprehend, but not so easy to put into practice. At one point this afternoon I finally just put her in her crib and told her to take a few minutes to herself and calm down. It also gave Dan and I a chance to breathe and regroup, and calm ourselves down. The crib time didn't actually change her behavior, but those few minutes away from her made it possible for me to make it through the rest of the evening. This included bathtime, where she cried every time I attempted to wash her, and milk time, which was an epic battle that ended with me telling her that if she threw her sippy cup one more time, she wasn't getting it back. There's a half-full sippy cup in our fridge right now, because of course she threw it again.
Right now she's sleeping soundly, and i'm praying that she won't wake up starving at 2am, since she only took about 5 bites of dinner. I'm also working hard to convince myself that tomorrow will be infinitely better, and she will be an angel of a toddler. The power of positive thinking, right?
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