I DO MYSELF!

When our children are little, and their very survival depends directly on we, the parents, we catch ourselves, between feedings and changing’s and nurturings, fondly anticipating those days that seem so far away where our children will not only be able to, but want to, do everything themselves.

We parents will only be required to procure the cheerios, and more than likely, wash the bowl, but somewhere in between, there will be a child, pouring the cereal, adding the milk, and spooning it into their very own mouth, all with out the aid of their parents, who can leisurely sleep in on Saturday morning, no longer required to turn on cartoons, or pour milk…it all seems so lovely.

What we DON’T think about in those bleary eyed mornings of far away dreaming, is that somewhere in between the screaming, completely dependent infant, and the secure, self sufficient pre-teen we dream of; is the screaming, fidgeting, “I do myself!” toddler/preschooler, an evil hybrid of cuddly dependent baby, and aloof rebellious teen, all with limited motor skills and a bad attitude.

The toddler/ preschool age is one of learning, one of discovery, one of dawdling. Every task takes about 20-30 minutes longer than it really needs to, this is not due to any sort of leisurely, stop and smell the roses sort of nonsense, but because the preschool/toddler has decided that they are not only capable, but entitled, to do anything, and everything, without reason, themselves.

There is no regard for schedules, or time restrictions, or, in many cases, weather restrictions, the preschooler must wear one boot, and one sandal, and they must be pulled on under a flowered sun dress, in the dead of winter, with out help, whether it takes 5 minutes, or 2 hours, and help is not acceptable.

The Pink One is an “I Do Myself” Nazi. Each morning the battle commences, if the outfit was picked out by mommy, it is unacceptable, if the coat must be zipped, it must be done by Lily, who does not acctually have the manual dexterity to zip a coat at the moment. All attempts to do any of this result in exasperated groans from both Mommy and lily, and tears from one or the other, and occasionally both.

I get it, she has to try, she has to practice or she will never evolve into the self sufficient young adult I long for, and perhaps, one day I will miss the stubborn, insolent, preschooler with the ill-buttoned blouse and flowered shorts.

I get it, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to grab the damn underpants and wrestle her into them correctly, after the 7th time of putting them on backwards, nor does it keep me from yanking the pants off of her and forcing one leg into each side, after the 15th giggle fit and scream of “I’m a Mermaid!” when both legs are tucked into the same side of the pants. Sooooo funny.

IT’S 7AM JUST GET DRESSD ALREADY!

Bah.

I have tried a few other methods, allowing her to dress her cool doll with the 75 different fasteners, hoping it will distract her, or at the very least, help her dexterity so she can be faster when it comes time to button her own pants.

But my daughter will not be rushed; she will not forgo her third mermaid joke, and whether it will cause significant spills and messes or not, she must always pour the cereal herself, and woe to the parent who deigns to suggest that she accept assistance in any way. This monster of a mother will be greeted with snarls and flailing of limbs only previously attributed to Linda Blair, screeches of “I DO MYSELF!” and legs kicking…its not a scene you want to experience, believe me.

And while your child may suggest that they no longer need you, this does not mean that you may not be present to witness this comedy of errors, which are her morning routine. Do not for a second be mistaken in thinking that because she wants to do it herself, that she actually wants to be alone. You will not be allowed to get other things done while she attempts the tying of various shoes, no. The child must not only do it herself, but have you there to acknowledge and praise her triumph.

I get it, I really do, I support her need to stretch her wings or whatever, but good god, could it take any LONGER for those wings to be fully formed?

The child gets her lack of patience from somewhere…must be her father.