Smidget

Our little Smidget is a bundle of energy and independence. That's a euphemistic way of saying she really wears me out. If my life were a comic strip, these are the thought bubbles you would read on a daily basis: This seems harder than the first time. Am I less patient than I was two years ago? What is wrong with this child?! Breathe ... breathe ...

Our 20 month old has fluffy curly hair and dark eyebrows, making her strikingly pretty. We are used to strangers stopping us and telling us how beautiful she is. My standard response is, "It's a good thing, because she sure is a handful!"

Take today, for example. (I don't have to search the archives for examples of her naughtiness.) We dropped Chatterbox off at preschool, then headed to the grocery store. About 2 minutes into the trip, Smidget spotted some bananas. "NANNAS!" she boomed in her gravelly voice. "NANNAS!" Once the kid starts, distraction is possible but difficult. After several failed attempts (me, overenthusiastically: "Let's find some chips!" her, not falling for it: "Mo! MO! NANNAS!"), we somehow made it out without being too much of a show; but then I pushed my luck and headed for a quick trip to Target.

In the parking lot I forced her to sit, buckled, in the cart. This was the beginning of the end. She threw a massive temper tantrum. "Mo!" to the fruit snacks, "Mo!" to my songs and games (half-hearted attempts at this point). She was still in full-force when we got to the entrance, so I wheeled around and terminated the project then and there. We opted for 20 minutes at the park instead (much to her delight) followed by a tantrum-free trip to Costco.

If you've read The Scarlet Letter, you'll understand when I say that Smidget resembles Pearl. She's mercurial, charming me with grins one moment, and frustrating me by doing exactly the opposite of what I want her to do the next. She rarely will cuddle or kiss, which is something of a disappointment, because she's still got such a cuddly little body, unlike her sister who is all bones these days. Every now and then, she'll rest her head on my shoulder, or take my cheeks in her hands and smother me with kisses. That melts my heart. But on other occasions she'll let out a string of high-pitched shrieks, push me away or even hit me (she knows she's not supposed to, so it's a pretty wimpy swing) with a rebellious look in her eye.

Looking on the bright side, it's good to be passionate about your convictions. I just wish her convictions involved helping her mommy and being kind. I'll just have to grit my teeth and hope I (and she) make it through the Terrible Twos.