By myself

By myself.

By myself, by myself, by myself.

NO, Mommy, BY MYSELF!

That's the refrain around here these days. Sometimes letting William do something by himself takes twice as long as just doing it myself, but it's a tradeoff. If I take over without being asked to help, that tends to infuriate him. Then he pitches a big old fit and refuses to cooperate. So then I have to wait to let him do it himself anyway...but only after waiting for the temper tantrum to peter out.

Having a hard time understanding? Okay, imagine this. I open the car door and invite William to climb up into his carseat by himself, even though it would be easier and far more efficient for me to just plunk him in there. But he tends to get distracted...hey, what's this thing do, is that the door lock, hey, are those fruit treat there on the floor? So I'm standing there, waiting impatiently for him to, you know, actually get in his carseat. But if I give into temptation and Make It So, oh, that's going to be such a mistake. He'll wail and scream and flail and churn those legs of his, and I wind up with a bruise or two, maybe a black eye, and he's still not in his seat. And then I have to start all over! Argh!

So I guess toddlerhood is a lesson in patience for both of us, isn't it?

And if you've ever wondered why I sometimes show up a few minutes late, out of breath and disheveled, well, now you know why.