Ugh. I think I parent Minnie like I am a grandma: very indulgently and sort of impractically. I thought this for the first time the other day while I was giving her a calming Oreo, and then yesterday really cemented it.
On Monday, I came home from work to find a pair of darling baby sandals that used to be Dorothy's on Minnie's dresser. "Oh Minnie!" I said. "Let's put these cute shoes on right away!" I snagged the shoes from the dresser top on my way to the rocking chair (Minnie must nurse first thing hen I come home no matter what time it is and what she had been eating when I walked in the door. Monday, it was a grilled cheese sandwich) and tried to shove her fat little bread loaf feet into the shoes.
THEY DID NOT FIT, and we had quite the evil stepsister moment (with me playing the footman) because Minnie REALLY wanted to wear them. She was so crestfallen that I promised her I'd take her to Target first thing after The Little Gym on Tuesday to buy any sandals she wanted.
My first mistake was not putting her in a cart. But! She wanted to walk, and I love watching her shamble around places sort of like a person, so we walked in the store together in our matching pink KN95 masks.
She was immediately taken with an 8-pack of size 8 Frozen underwear (which Dorothy would have HATED, by the way, if we had been forced to bring it home), but she reacted amiably enough (read: DID NOT SCREAM AT LEAST) when I put it back. She toddled along, happily smacking low hanging items (bras! maternity pants! socks!) on our way to shoes, and when we got there, the wheels fell off our excursion.
She somehow didn't see the shiny wall of toddler sandals that featured lots of sparkly shoes; many pairs were magically both in her size AND displayed at her height. What she DID see, though, was a pair of high-heeled jelly shoes with Anna and Elsa printed on the insoles.
She imprinted on those shoes, grabbed them off the little pole they hung on, sat down, pulled off her size 6 Stride Rite rose gold Mary Janes, and put them right on her feet. Then she shuffled around the shoe aisle (they were TIED TOGETHER) saying "Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah," which is what she does when she really likes something.
She FREAKED OUT when I tried to get her to try on other sandals, even when I said she could get the shoes on her feet, too. She also FREAKED OUT when I tried to get her to put her own shoes back on to leave the store AND when I carried her (shoeless and clutching her jellies) to the cash register.
Did we leave with purple, high-heeled, Frozen light-up jelly shoes one size too big? YOU FREAKING BETCHA. At least the characters are on the inside, I guess.
I told her they are inside shoes, and that's working... for now?
"I thought this for the first time the other day while I was giving her a calming Oreo."
ReplyDeleteA calming Oreo. I do this to myself sometimes. Wow that line made me laugh.
I only have two kiddos, but I am so much more indulgent with the second. There are definitely different personalities at work, but I just think the youngest kid gets a much easier ride. And I say that with experience as I was the youngest of 4 by a LONG shot (my closest sibling is 8 years older). I had a lot more treats and a lot less discipline than my brother and sisters! (And I like to think I still turned out okay!)
No one wants to fight with the baby! I’m convinced that’s the true test of knowing when you’re “done.” Are you still holding structure and boundaries? Have another! Are you overly indulgent and knowingly spoiling your youngest? Probably done. I keep having to explicitly remind myself that Averson is NINE. She can totally be expected to act like a human occasionally. When Eli was that age I’m pretty sure I suggested he might get a summer job.
ReplyDeleteBut also? Those heels are pretty awesome