Mr. Independent

Elliot has reached the "independent twos".  I don't like when people call them the terrible twos, because it's kind of sweet and cute that they want to do so much for themselves and feel so proud about it.  And, let's face it, we all know the threes are way harder.

For the most part I've learned to give Elliot lots of independence and choose my battles.  I let him pick his own cup, climb in his own carseat, pick his spoon, yogurt, etc.  I choose the battles that matter, like 'yes you can walk, but you have to hold my hand".  The little stinker is still being resistant about that despite my being very consistent.

But, God forbid the times I don't think about or just can't let him "do it".  We are talking some major dramatic meltdowns.  This morning I made the horrible mistake of throwing away his diaper. WHAT was I THINKING?!  Clearly, I wasn't!  Last night Noah ran to answer a knock at the door yelling out "I'll get it!".  Oh.My.Goodness. "NO!  I GEG IT!" he yells as his face turns beet red and he throws himself against the couch having a huge fit.  It's as if he's being abused. 

And one of the worst atrocities one can commit against Mr. Independent is simply answering the phone.  "I GEG IT!".  I'm getting better at answering it and dashing out of the room, so the person on the other end doesn't ask if it's a bad time and if they should call back later.

Oh, but I love my little independent guy.  It's so adorable how proud and happy he is doing things for himself and learning new things everyday.  And I know it all comes from frustration of just wanting more control in his little world.  I'm trying to give you some, buddy.  I'm trying.  Just give mommy a little slack if I do something silly, like carelessly toss a diaper in the trash, k?