Dear Livia,
You are very particular about everything. It makes life difficult sometimes. For example, you hold us all up every morning as you decide which shirt and pants to wear. That is, if you’ll even wear them. It’s amazing how often you run around this house wearing only your diaper and onesie. How you can stand to wear so little, with the temperature in the low 60’s, I do not know. But while you may be difficult about choosing clothes, you take pleasure in being dressed up prettily. And for the record, you have rocked almost every outfit you’ve ever worn.
Believe it or not, you even debate over which diaper to wear. You’ll point to one diaper and say, “Dat nun!” But if we take that one and start unfolding it, you’ll point at another and say, “No! Dat nun!” You’ll go back and forth several times. If we try to put on the “wrong” one, you’ll throw a fit. Your comfort is also very important. You insist on having your pillow under your head while your diaper is changed.
Of course, you shouldn’t be in diapers anymore. You should be potty-trained, and you’re close. Really close. But there are so many unwritten, constantly-changing rules and rituals that you insist on. Every trip to the potty is difficult and time-consuming. I haven’t been pushing you (I tried that before and it didn’t work). That said, I’ll still be surprised if you’re not fully potty-trained soon. You’ve been pushing me! Plus, you’re so adamant about doing everything yourself, it’s bound to work in our favor eventually. Your favorite phrase is “My do!” (“Let me do it!”).
You like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. You separate the slices of bread and lick off the jelly first. If you’re still hungry, you might eat the bread and peanut butter. Or maybe not, because you’re picky, and you’re willing to skip entire meals and hold out for something better. Meanwhile, after eating your sandwich, your face will be covered with jelly and/or peanut butter, but you don’t like to have your face cleaned. We practically have to pin you down just so we can take a couple of swipes at it.
Yup, you’re difficult. It’s normal for a two-year-old, so it’s probably just a phase. But just in case you decide to carry on this way for the rest of your life, let me share one of my favorite sayings with you.
Why be merely difficult when with a little more effort you could be totally impossible?
You’re not even close to impossible. Yet. So there’s still work to be done. Keep it up and maybe someday you’ll be as difficult as your mother.
Love,
Mom