Temper, Temper

Mark is on his way to California for a friend's wedding, so I'm solo with Laineybug this weekend. And I'm nervous. She has been a holy terror this week. She starts off her usual fun self in the morning--demanding but easily entertained and somewhat cooperative. But, every night she's started her time at home with a whine-fest that quickly breaks into pitiful sobs, which turn into angry, thrashing tantrums that even my most rousing rendition of "Wheels on the Bus" can't tame.

Last night while eating, I mistakenly tried to show her how to hold her spoon. WOW! Clearly the wrong move. This minor correction caused such a crushing blow to her ego that she began the silent, red-faced wail for a good 10 seconds followed by some audible screams just in case I didn't get the message. Meahwhile, she has a mouth full of rice and beans that I'm terrified she is going to suck down her throat. Me thinks we will dine sans utensils tonight.

While last night was no joy, Wednesday bathtime was probably the highlight of the week. Lainey loves her bath. Can't get enough of it. It's my go-to fix when I can't get her out of her funk. Guess she wasn't feeling it on Wednesday. She refused to sit down and spent the whole time sobbing on Mark's shoulder and pulling his hair while I tried to get her scrubbed down and rinsed off. She never stopped fighting us after that..."NO you will NOT put a diaper on me...NO you will NOT put my arms in these PJs...NO I will NOT drink my bottle--oh wait, yes, yes, I will drink that, but don't look at me while I do it" and then, mercifully, she fell into exhausted sleep. It was a lovely evening for all.

We are really hoping this is a short-lived phase. I think it's a combination of her not napping well at daycare and her frustration at knowing what she wants, but not being able to communicate it. Plus, her separation anxiety has become a little more pronounced. She really wants me in the room with her at all times, preferably right by her side, and on the days I drop her at daycare, they practically have to peel her off of me.

So, wish us luck! I know she'll survive...we'll see what kind of shape I'm in by Sunday night. Do wine shops deliver?

Hoping we're both still smiling by Sunday night!