Recently, my sister-in-law sent me a blog post by a mother of a toddler close to Scarlett’s age. The post was entitled, the Battle of the Bottle. It was funny and her words rang very true as I, too, am battling the bottle with Scarlett. And losing. The post made me think of all the other battles I’m fighting. And losing. Here are a few:
· The (related) Battle of the Sippy Cup
· The Battle of Eating in a Seat or Highchair (as opposed to grabbing a handful of goldfish and walking around while eating)
· The Battle of the Diaper Change (note: this is a particularly heinous one)
· The Battle of the Second Nap (she’s so tired! Why doesn’t she realize she needs this?)
· The Battle of Leaving the Park
· The Battle of Not Leaving the Cats Alone (especially when they eat, which is apparently fascinating)
· The Battle of the Stairs (is there some kind of baby-homing device located in the stairs?)
· The Battle of Eating Something More/Different Than Simply Fruit and Cheese
· The Battle of the Bath (oh how I love my husband for putting on his bathing suit and getting in with her while I perform “bath time triage,” scrubbing down body parts that need it the most so that we can abort immediately upon signs of an all-out meltdown)
· The Battle of Letting Me Pee (I’ll be right back, honey, I swear. I really just have to close the door. Okay, bye!)
· The Battle of Letting Me Do Anything (clean the kitchen, do the laundry, read the paper, get on the computer, do a crossword)
There’s got to be many more battles I’m losing fighting, but these are the few that come to mind first.
So, while life often seems like a series of battles (against a brilliant, Machiavellian war strategist), I guess I could also say that sparring with this particular little cutie is well worth it. And what’s that quote about losing the battle but winning the war? Hopefully, I’m still winning the war. But I’m not so sure about that….
My formidable opponent:
