The past week and a half have been what people with early childhood education degrees like to call "challenging." Challenging, as in my child has been replaced by a back-arching, face-contorting, screeching demon. All last week she was cutting a new pair of teeth (her fangs are coming in! She has teeny fang nubbins!) so she got the requisite fever and runny nose. And she decided that she needs to eat cheese popcorn morning, noon, and night. And all of her toys are boring. And she wants to read books instead of go to bed. Point, grunt. Point, grunt.
Her tantrums have become refined to a razor's edge. If we tell her no or don't pay attention to her RIGHT NOW she'll drop to the floor, screech, and start banging her head. She's slowly learning that Mama doesn't pay attention to these displays, and that banging her head on the tile kitchen floor, or the sidewalk, or the brick patio doesn't feel very good. She compensates by giving the floor surface a tentative test whack, and if it's too hard she'll put her hand down as a soft strike zone. She's a wily one, this child.
On the upside, she has finally decided that since her cousins know how to sign "please" and thus get what they want, she can too. It's so great to see her embrace actual communication. She'll make the sign, then beam at us because she now knows that "please" is truly a magic word. "Please" gets her cheese popcorn. But not for breakfast.
Miscellaneous crap pertaining to the in-between life of an in-between girl called PikaPikaChick.
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