20 Months
Sweet Ingrid got a bit feisty this month. Lots of toddler hysterics
if things don't go precisely her way, or about absolutely nothing at
all. This weekend she had a core meltdown because I forced her to wear a
pretty dress to a wedding. She pouted all the way out to suburban
Maryland and halfway through the ceremony, then bounced back when
everyone at the reception told her how adorable she was. And then she
refused to take the dress off at bedtime.
And this exchange, which happens at least once a day:
Ingrid: Want milk.
Me: [Hands her a cup of milk]
Ingrid: WTH is this?
Me: Here, you wanted milk.
Ingrid: Why do you hate me? Everything is awful! You're ruining my life!
Me: [Puts milk back in the fridge]
Ingrid: I want water.
Maybe she's trying out for reasonsmysoniscrying.com. It's a good thing she's cute.
The upside to having opinions about the way things should be, is that she is usually quite happy to do them herself. She likes to help pour her drinks and screw the lids on. If I don't mind her wearing a blue flowered dress, houndstooth leggings, and slippers, she will pick out her own clothes. At the end of the day, she removes her own clothes, puts them in the hamper, then runs toward the bath while shouting, "I naked!" She goes up and down the stairs (this stresses me out) to fetch things she wants.
She loves playing with the boys. Sam came over to play with Henry the other day, and Ingrid left them alone for about ten minutes, then said, "Go see da boys." I took her upstairs and she dove right in, tearing up and down the hallway with them and accepting their designation that she play the bad guy (her primary job was to let them carry her to be locked in jail over and over). And we went over to Cooper's house today; she was more excited about the prospect than Henry was.
She's passionately in love with Frozen and Finding Nemo. We listen to the Frozen soundtrack about five times a day. Favorite books are Harold and the Purple Crayon, Big Snow, Up Tall & High, and Little Beauty.
Our low-key potty training is proving remarkably successful, given how little attention we have given to it. With Henry, we did the four-day blitz, and focused on nothing but bodily functions for those four days. He never went back to daytime diapers at all because we didn't want him to get confused. Ingrid gets to go naked any time we're hanging around the house for a couple of hours, and then I stick her back in a diaper when we go out. She tells me when she has to potty and makes it to the toilet about 75% of the time when she's naked. She's so close to being trained that I think we can make a small push and be done with it. Should be easy in a few weeks when we start spending most of our mornings at the parks -- it's much easier to pop her on the travel potty in the grass than it is to find the lone bathroom in a museum or playplace.
Henry has lately been demanding Dad at bedtime, so I got to take over the Ingrid snuggles for the first time in several months. I'm relishing the cuddly time in the rocking chair with her soft, solid body flopped against my shoulder. It feels like we only have a few more months before our tiny toddler starts turning into a big girl.
And this exchange, which happens at least once a day:
Ingrid: Want milk.
Me: [Hands her a cup of milk]
Ingrid: WTH is this?
Me: Here, you wanted milk.
Ingrid: Why do you hate me? Everything is awful! You're ruining my life!
Me: [Puts milk back in the fridge]
Ingrid: I want water.
Maybe she's trying out for reasonsmysoniscrying.com. It's a good thing she's cute.
The upside to having opinions about the way things should be, is that she is usually quite happy to do them herself. She likes to help pour her drinks and screw the lids on. If I don't mind her wearing a blue flowered dress, houndstooth leggings, and slippers, she will pick out her own clothes. At the end of the day, she removes her own clothes, puts them in the hamper, then runs toward the bath while shouting, "I naked!" She goes up and down the stairs (this stresses me out) to fetch things she wants.
She loves playing with the boys. Sam came over to play with Henry the other day, and Ingrid left them alone for about ten minutes, then said, "Go see da boys." I took her upstairs and she dove right in, tearing up and down the hallway with them and accepting their designation that she play the bad guy (her primary job was to let them carry her to be locked in jail over and over). And we went over to Cooper's house today; she was more excited about the prospect than Henry was.
She's passionately in love with Frozen and Finding Nemo. We listen to the Frozen soundtrack about five times a day. Favorite books are Harold and the Purple Crayon, Big Snow, Up Tall & High, and Little Beauty.
Our low-key potty training is proving remarkably successful, given how little attention we have given to it. With Henry, we did the four-day blitz, and focused on nothing but bodily functions for those four days. He never went back to daytime diapers at all because we didn't want him to get confused. Ingrid gets to go naked any time we're hanging around the house for a couple of hours, and then I stick her back in a diaper when we go out. She tells me when she has to potty and makes it to the toilet about 75% of the time when she's naked. She's so close to being trained that I think we can make a small push and be done with it. Should be easy in a few weeks when we start spending most of our mornings at the parks -- it's much easier to pop her on the travel potty in the grass than it is to find the lone bathroom in a museum or playplace.
Henry has lately been demanding Dad at bedtime, so I got to take over the Ingrid snuggles for the first time in several months. I'm relishing the cuddly time in the rocking chair with her soft, solid body flopped against my shoulder. It feels like we only have a few more months before our tiny toddler starts turning into a big girl.
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