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We went to a birthday party on Sunday at a local “Gymboree” type place and, let’s just say it wasn’t Tater Tot’s favorite experience. I did manage to get some video of her actually enjoying herself but she spent a good portion of the party attached to my hip. More accurately, on my hip. Which doesn’t bode well for the progress that I’ve made at physical therapy with my lower back and shoulder problems but that’s another story for another day…

As we drive up to the place I hear a little excited voice say from the back seat, “Dere’s toys in dere”. She continues to be excited as we get out of the car and gather birthday present, diaper bag, etc. and walk into the place. Then, when two other kids show up, she cries and says “Want Mommy to pick you up”. We get our shoes off, start into the fun zone, and explore a little bit without further drama. She actually enjoys the slides, the trampoline, and a few of the obstacle course-type thingies but when the structured activities begin, she becomes attached to the hip again. I attempt to get her to participate with fairly disastrous results and spend much of my time speaking in a soothing tone away from the activity to get her to calm down. We watch and take pictures of the birthday girl being wheeled around in the birthday wagon with balloons attached and then everyone heads into the room in the back for cake. That is the point at which The Tater Tot makes it clear that it is time to go home. Wailing is usually a sign that a child is past her limit. Duh, Mommy.

I really thought she’d like the experience of being at the gym and, without the other kids and noise, I think she would have. Of course, kids and noise go hand-in-hand with kids’ gyms so I guess she didn’t have a fighting chance. At first, I was a little disturbed that she didn’t like it since all the other kids seemed absolutely fine with it and seemed to be having a great time. Mine was the only kid screaming and crying and saying “no” to all of the activities. In hindsight, I should have picked up on the fact that she wasn’t feelin’ it sooner but I guess I thought that, once she got in there and participated, she’d have a good time. Sometimes she’s reluctant at first but when she gets into it, she’s fine. I came away from the experience having learned two things. One, it was worth a shot. I didn’t know that she wouldn’t like it at this age. Now I do. And two, this is another opportunity for Mommy to realize that Tater Tot is who she is. She is a wonderful little girl who is sweet and social when she feels comfortable and is not shy about letting you know when she is uncomfortable (hence the crying and screaming and saying “no”). She is her own little person and, regardless of what I want or what I think, she needs to be allowed to be who she is. And she is just not into crowds and noise right now no matter what all else is going on. I still think it’s good for her to go to parties and such. I’ll just take her knowing that I need to pay closer attention to when it’s time to go home…

We are deep into it here at Princess Tater Tot’s house. Deep into the learning that you don’t always get everything you want exactly when you want it, if at all. And it’s causing a little havoc for The Mommy. Of course I don’t want to give in when she starts throwing a fit. Okay, I want to give in just a little. But I don’t. Because she’s a smart cookie and would immediately get THAT connection. But it is excrutiating sometimes to see and hear her cry and carry on.

Mommy Tip: If you’re headed to a new place for a playdate, mapquest the address and/or print out the directions to take with you. See below.

Yesterday we were headed home from a failed attempt to attend a group play date (directions were a little off and I hadn’t bothered to mapquest the address…Duh, Mommy) and we stopped to get a Jamba Juice for me. Tater Tot was fine in the store, dancing to the music and generally being cute. Once I got the drink, however, all hell broke loose! I tried to put her in her car seat but she arched and squirmed until I figured out she wanted my drink. I thought “Okay, let’s try drinking out of a straw for the first time.” So, I held the straw to her mouth and she refused. She put her little hand on the cup and drew it in to her like it was a prized possession. Aw, crap. I took it away and the wailing started up again. Put it back and the wailing stopped. Oh, no no no no no. Mommy is not going to let my 19 month old hang onto my brightly colored juice drink that is only protected from flowing out all over The Tot and my back seat by a flimsy plastic lid while driving. Call me Mean Mommy but that just ain’t gonna happen. So I calmly explained to her that Mommy needed to drink her juice and took the cup away. She cried for 10 minutes straight. And I’m not just talking about crying. There was wailing and flailing and general inconsolability. As a side note, I have noticed in other tantrums that she’s got the foot-stomping down pretty well already, too. It’s hard not to laugh. But I digress.

Finally, as we neared home, Mr. Duckie saved the day. Don’t ask me how I was able to do this while driving (and don’t tell The Daddy) but, I was able to play “Peeky” with The Tot over the back of the seat with Mr. Duckie whilst navigating the traffic and general mayhem that goes with driving. Do not try this at home. She started to giggle and the spell was broken. We got home and there were a few more whimpers and a wail or two as we were getting lunch ready but the tantrum was basically over. She was so tired. Poor thing.

I know that this is only the beginning and it’s likely to get worse before it gets better but I am resolved to be reasonable about what to refuse her and to be consistent with not giving in. This is where my years working in a group home with emotionally disturbed teens and as a social worker for teenaged boys on probation really will serve me well. If there’s anything that I learned at those two jobs, it was to be CON-SIS-TENT. Not that I’m comparing The Tot to emotionally disturbed girls or boys on probation. She’s my sweet little angel but a typical toddler. Both The Mommy and The Daddy have a bit of a stubborn streak, too. So she comes by it honestly…

Toddlerhood is a trip, huh? From zero to sixty in 2 seconds flat. For no apparent reason. But there is one. Always. It’s just my job to figure out what the reason is and handle it. Yesterday the reasons mostly had to do with transitions. Transitions between activities at “pre-school”. Transitions between activities at home. In short, stopping what she wants to do in order to do what she needs to do. Like diaper changing. Or washing for meals. Or getting in the car so we can go to the grocery store. I try to figure in a few extra minutes for her to get used to the idea but sometimes it takes a little longer than expected.

She has started to balk at getting into the car seat so sometimes we’ll just sit with her on my lap facing me in the car next to her car seat. A little shnuggle here, a little joke there and, most times, in a few minutes she’s ready to get in the car seat. BOY I’m glad we don’t have much of a schedule around here. I cannot imagine actually having to get up, get both of us ready for me to go to work, and getting her to day care every day. A kazillion mommies do it every day. I’m just glad I’m not one of ‘em. Mad props to you ladies….

I am acutely aware these days that she is an only child and is likely to remain that way. I know several mommies with kids her age that are pregnant, trying to get pregnant or thinking about trying to get pregnant. Again, I am not one of them. The fact that she is most likely going to remain an only child means that there is not that propping her up on her own two little feet because I have another teeny tiny one to take care of. Not that I don’t encourage her independence but, let’s just say that I have been a bit lax in the “teaching her how to clean up” category as well as in the “suck-it-up-because-we’ve-got-to-go” category. I’m a bit indulgent. I like to think I’m not over-indulgent simply because I’m aware of the fact that I’m a bit indulgent. But that remains to be seen. I don’t want her to be a spoiled only child. With two or more, I can imagine that you would want to teach your child the aforementioned skills as soon as humanly possible so that you do not lose your mind amid the dishes, laundry, toys and general messiness of family life. But with one, I think it’s easier to assume you can do all of the picking up and dealing with of messes by yourself. The melt-downs that I have seen the past two weeks at pre-school during “clean up time”, however, have forced me to consider the possibility that I should be teaching The Tot how to put her things away. Yes, this is a “Duh Mommy” moment, in case you were wondering.

So today I am going to try to remember to show Tater Tot how to help me put her things away. Wish me luck! I’ll need as much luck to remember to do it as to get her to do it, I think…