After my last post about J and how much he is like his Mother, I feel like I should also share how little Apple is like me. Not only does she look just like her Dad, in miniature form with Strawberry hair but, she must, must have his temperment. I am only guessing because, although he is not like this today, I can see him being a little like this when he was younger.
Little Miss Apple is not a cuddler. She will only cuddle if you walk around with her until your back aches and your knees hurt. As soon as you sit, she screams and wiggles herself free. And whines and cries in hopes that you will again pick her up. Sometimes she wins, sometimes she loses.
If you sit on the floor to play with her, your chances are pretty good that she will be happy, but if you (and realize, the ‘you’ in these sentences is actually me) step foot into the kitchen to make a cup of tea or lunch or dinner it is like the end of the world. I have made many a dinner with a little girl sitting on my foot, arms wrapped around my leg and screaming and crying. And when Hubby gets home, he wonders why I have a headache the size of Canada.
And Hubby, well yes, the sun rises and shines on Daddy right now, so except for the morning when he leaves for work, any other time he leaves or goes to another room is like the end of the world all over again. I mean, she does this if I leave her with my Mom or Hubby too, but this is so rare that she is just confused about what on earth is going on.
Should I carry this one step further, I will include that she feels compelled to open every door, drawer, and cabinet that suits her fancy. Sometimes she takes stuff out, sometimes she doesn’t. But, knowing that she is opening these things up drives me crazy. Usually she opens the door, puts her hand inside and just stares at me. Waiting. Waiting for me to notice and tell her no. She is an instigator this one. On top of all of that she is already throwing herself on the floor in mini screaming fits. So far, they are only at home and usually happen when I have removed her from said drawers and door for the eleventy millionth time. I dread the day this happens in public. My only saving grace is that I am tall and strong and so far have no problems picking up my kids and marching out to the car with them.
As Apple is only 14 months old, I still hold out hope that I can find a way to work with her temperment and perhaps change it up a little bit.