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  • The Reign of Clio

    I am in need of some serious Babble reader advice, sympathy and/or commiseration here. We have the world's bossiest toddler living under our roof, and she's driving us bonkers. True, we have been basically trapped inside by snow for the past two-and-a-half days, so we're all feeling a little cabin-feverish. But this has been going on for some time: Clio has become incredibly high maintenance.

     

    She wants to play with Play Doh now. She wants more milk now. She wants to watch the Baby Animal Songs DVD ("Baby ee-o") for the 4th time that day. She wants me to read Chickaboom to her for the 5th. But mostly, she orders us to hold her. We try to oblige when we can, but it's just not always possible. Making breakfast, going to the bathroom, playing with your other child, etc. are all fairly tricky when you've got a 26-lb. person in your arms. Unfortunately, Clio is also very specific about how and where she wants to be held: standing up vs. sitting down, with mommy vs. daddy, in the kitchen or in the living room. And she most definitely doesn't like to share a lap with Elsa. (I wonder if, in fact, this is all directly related to being a twin -- a sense of competition or jealousy, a need to have her individual desires met...)

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  • Tears

    On Monday afternoon, when we got back from our weekend in New York, I made the stupid (STUPID!) mistake of taking the girls to the grocery store with me. My mood had been plummeting steadily all day, to my disappointment (I'd felt much better the day before), and neither of the girls had slept much on the drive up. Given these two things, I really should have known better. Even Alastair thought maybe it was too much for me to handle, given how I was feeling. ("Are you sure you'll be OK?") But we needed milk and bread and bananas, and it was something to pass the time until dinner, and I thought maybe getting out and doing something would kick my depressed ass back into gear. So off we went.

     

    We'd barely made it halfway through the produce section when Clio started whining and crying to get out of the cart, then yelling for milk or water or juice (which I STUPIDLY hadn't brought). Then she started screaming for a cookie. Elsa, meanwhile, kept wriggling out of the seatbelt (it was one of those shopping carts shaped like a little car) and standing up with half her body out the front window like some kind of hyperactive labrador retriever.

     

    I was the picture of a stressed-out mom. I looked bad, I felt horrid. I could sense people looking at us, maybe in pity, maybe annoyance, maybe some in smiling, "how cute they are, but what a handful" sympathy. I wouldn't know -- I kept my eyes straight ahead, kept my head down, and told myself to just get everything on the list and get out and go home. And then what? Unload the groceries, keep the girls entertained for another hour and a half, make them dinner, get them to bed, make our dinner, unpack....(These sound like simple enough things to do, but when I am depressed, something as simple as brushing my teeth feels akin to pushing a boulder up a hill.) I half wished I'd collapse right there in the cereal aisle and wake up in a sanitorium -- maybe out in the Berkshires somewhere; the kind where they used to send ladies suffering from "nervous exhaustion." Birds singing. Clean white sheets. A rocking chair....

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  • Cry Baby

    Elsa is really starting to get on my nerves. I know, I know, I'm not supposed to stay stuff like that. And most of the time she is, of course, delightful. But it seems like she's doing a lot more crying and whining lately: to be picked up, to be fed, to be given her cup or bottle, to be taken out of her high chair.

     

    A couple of times over the past few days, she's even thrown all-out tantrums. This is definitely a new development. Both times, she was in her high chair eating and then suddenly -- seemingly out of the blue -- started freaking out. We tried giving her different food, holding her, giving her her cup, etc., but she was, for a few minutes, inconsolable. She even kicked and flailed when I tried to hold her. So finally, we just let her walk (more like stomp) around the room crying and screaming until she calmed down.

     

    I have no idea what she was upset about. Her food wasn't to her liking? Her peas and carrots clashed? She was worried about the economy? I don't know if it's normal for 14-almost-15-month-olds to start throwing tantrums, but if it is (please tell me it is....) I would wager it's due to communication frustration. There's so much now that she can tell us -- she knows the sign language for "drink" and "eat" and "more." She can lift her arms up when she wants to be held and shove a book at me when she wants to be read to. She even sometimes points at her rear end when she needs to be changed -- a new and promising skill. But I'm sure there's much more going on inside her head that she can't get across: I'm sick of mac and cheese! This bib is scratchy! I'm tired and bored and my college savings funds are nosediving while you sit there trying to get me to eat chunks of over-microwaved Boca burger! Agggghhghghgh!!

     

    My instincts tell me that at this stage of the game there's not a whole lot we can do during these outbursts except just give her some space to cool off. As for the other, more low-grade whining and crying, I don't know. Since day one, Elsa has been a bit of a drama queen (not that I'd ever dress her in a shirt that said so...), and her crying has always seemed somehow very *emotional.*  I love the fact that she's passionate and intense and stubborn. But it's definitely becoming more of a challenge. Although I am generally able to keep my cool ("Everything's OK, sweetie, Mommy's getting your milk right now, please be patient," or "Mommy can't pick you up right now because she's changing Clio's diaper, but I'll play with you as soon as I'm done" etc. etc.) -- the occasional, "What is up with you, Elsa? Chill, girl!" does slip out. I'm beginning to have dire visions of the future -- tantrums in the grocery store, battles over bedtime, notes sent home with the principal, squad cars pulling up to our house with -- OK, OK, I'll stop.

     

    At least this is one time where the twin thing is a comfort. While Clio certainly does her share of crying and whining, too, she's generally much more mellow. So at least we can be reasonably sure that Elsa's behavior isn't a result of our doing something horribly, dreadfully wrong. I don't think...

     

     


    Posted Mar 19 2008, 03:14 PM by Roper with | with 21 comment(s)

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About the Blogger

Jane Roper

Jane Roper in Boston

One baby? Piece of cake. Try two. This working mother gives you the inside scoop on the ultimate in extreme parenting: twins.

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