Yesterday was one of those days where I had to try and focus on the little victories.
I spent most of the morning entrenched in that dangerous dance of trying to get out of the house with a fully clothed two-and-a-half year old. We had one fairly large tantrum about getting dressed that was set off by the fact that I had picked out jeans for the Lady to wear. Jeans, to the Lady is like kryptonite. Literally, you can see her body breaking down into a jumbled mess of flesh and bones as she kicks and flails and then does the age-old slump to the floor like a sack of potatoes move, when you try to gently coax her little legs into those denim duds.
This tantrum was fairly normal, but I noticed that she started to take out her anger a bit on the Little Lady, who was all ready to go sitting peacefully in her car seat. After telling me "NO" she would run over to the car seat and hit the top of it with her hand. She never actually touched the Little Lady, but I could see that she was testing some boundaries. This little action led me to exile her in my room where she could calm down. The Lady has been having these little tantrums at least once a day and gets herself so worked up that she has started growling at me. It is always something new at my house.
Anyway, after a couple of minutes I went in to find the Lady, nude on my bed, with her little moon entirely too close to my pillow. I am hoping not to wake up with pink eye anytime soon!
I was finally able to get her dressed (in leggings--not jeans) and we left the house about 2 hours after I wanted to. I was able to bribe the Lady with riding in the shopping cart that has the car attached to the front. Are these cars akin to a petri dish filled with the most vile of all germs? Yes. Did I care at that point? No. Besides, they have Purell wipes at the entrance of the store and every time I walk in there I take about 15.
Now, I don't know if any of you have pushed these car-carts before, but due to the size of the car, the actual cart part is reduced. I then had to put the Little Lady, who had fallen asleep in her car seat, inside that much reduced cart space. I was not even able to use the top part of the cart because the seat took up basically all the space. The other problem with the car-cart is that it is top heavy. The weight of the Lady and the car actually force the front of the cart down and so I rolled into Stop & Shop on the front two wheels.
By the time we hit the deli counter, the Little Lady had woken up, but I had already slid a few things down into the nooks and crannies of available space in the cart so I didn't think it was worth it to try to get back to the car with the seat. I put her in the front of the cart, propped up the car seat and continued shopping. By the end of the trip, I had the Little Lady in the front playing with the puffs container, the Lady in the car with shampoo and Dora yogurt drinks (an impulse buy--but we had a coupon!), the car seat clicked into the end of the cart and hanging over the car and 14 Stage 2 fruits balanced on the roof.
Did I mention that there was not one tantrum, not one peep from either of the Ladies? That the Lady who usually drags her hands on the floor, stayed in her seat and besides the Dora yogurt (that I had a coupon for) didn't ask for anything that she wasn't going to get. That the Little Lady, despite only sleeping for 20 minutes and pushing lunch time--entertained herself in her maiden voyage in the front of the cart? And to top it all off--I saved $37.48 at the register. I know it isn't a ton, but I actually went in prepared to shop and it worked. I saved some cash. Ah the little victory.
I was so proud of me. I was so proud of my Ladies.
Then we got home. The Lady never took a nap. The Little Lady started biting me when I tried to nurse her. Let me be clear about this. BITING BOOBS HURTS. Now, I am not one to judge and whatever any of my readers do in the privacy of their own bedrooms is their business, but when an 8 month old with two teeth takes a nip at your tit there is nothing, NOTHING, pleasurable about it.
I forcefully told the Little Lady no. She bit me again. Then one more time. I cried. She cried. Ugh.
Luckily, both the girls were in bed sleeping by 8 pm. The Little Lady only bit me once during the last feeding before bed. I know that she is teething and that she doesn't mean to hurt me but just like trying to reason with a 2.5 year old, I have a feeling that somehow I am losing this battle!
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