Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Kate: Month Thirty-Eight

Dear Kate,

Last week you turned thirty-eight months old. Each month when I attempt to gather fragments that have occurred since my last letter to you, I am amazed at how much one can change in such a short period of time. This month has been turbulent, bringing out some aspects of your character that I just haven’t witnessed before. I sit here thinking how blissful life would be if I had still not witnessed them, but I don’t have that luxury. We have graduated to the knock-down, drag-out tantrum phase. Historically, you’d get a little upset from time to time, bordering on a mini-fit on occasion. I was successful at diverting those tantrums, or reducing their magnitude. In fact, I would have considered myself an expert in this area, certainly worthy of a prestigious award of some type. Just to prove that I am master of nothing, you decided to major in tantrums this month.



In reality, I can relate to tantrums. There are many times in life when nothing feels more appealing than a gigantic tantrum. How I would love to kick and scream at work when things just don’t go right. How I would love to curse obscenities at the current state of our economy and all of the injustices inflicted upon decent, hardworking friends. However, your tantrums don’t seek to right any wrongs, they simply defy logic and reason without fail. I think you broke a record one morning this week with a tantrum ensuing because I didn’t turn the water on quite correctly. The right way eluded me … the only apparent incorrect way whichever one I was currently practicing in an attempt to divert the massacre of my eardrums. This was followed closely by a second tantrum after I failed to hold you and let you stare at the kitchen counter for hours on end while you repeatedly asked me to identify the different objects on it. The movie is still a movie, the book is still a book, and my purse is still a purse. Despite that educational tutorial, you proceeded to wail like I was beheading beloved Baby Kate when I decided that we had been through the diatribe long enough.



These tantrums upset your world, creating a perfect imbalance in all that you wish to control. It astonishes me to witness you reacting with such uncontrollable fury. Your face turns red, enormous tears well up in your eyes, and you scream. Then you scream and scream and scream some more. I have to fight the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Instead I try to see things from your perspective, empathizing with how frustrating it must be to have such little power over your world. I must admit that trying to see things from that perspective is challenging. It is akin to trying to see the positives in a Bin Laden, a sewer leak, or the addition of 10 pounds to your waistline. I suddenly realized that THIS must be the stage those others parents spoke of. A stage we’ve only glimpsed momentarily in months past. A stage that better be vacated quickly, or the thought of ever having a second child will likely be removed from the list of CRAZY THINGS I MIGHT CONTEMPLATE AT A FUTURE DATE.



Amazingly enough, at the same time you’ve signed on to compete for the title of World Championship Tantrum Thrower, you have also discovered and embraced your affectionate side. While I know it has always been there, I simply think you never slowed down enough to find it. You were never one to want to be held or cuddled. Not because you weren’t sweet in your own way, but your mind was all PUT ME DOWN WOMAN, I’VE GOT THINGS TO EXPLORE. I don’t think it is a coincidence that while you are branching out, pushing boundaries, and fighting for your independence, you are equally cautious, seeking comfort, security, and familiarity with us. Nightly you request that I snuggle with you and I happily oblige. Realistically, I know that like every other phase you enter, this will be gone as quickly as it arrived. Before I know it, you’ll be rolling your eyes at me and telling me to get out of your room and I’ll certainly be reminding you that you used to force me to cuddle with you every night before you went to bed.



I am sure I am forgetting some of the highlights of the month. They are lost in between the fragmented, repressed memories of the tantrums and the heartwarming cuddles we share every night. Life doesn’t get any better than this.

Love,
Mama

9 comments:

Anonymous said...

Well mine may be in the running with yours for that World Title. The girls at daycare say that little girls hit this phase later then little boys. Mine is almost 2 and definitely going through it right now! They are surely some of the most trying days I have ever had as a parent!

Unknown said...

ahhhhhhh the toddler years I SO do not miss them.. because I have teenage toddlers! The girl is OK.. she is hardly ever a problem.

"The Boy" has WAY too many hormones raging through him.. all I can think is 7 more months and I can leagally toss him out.

Will I? No.. but it's what keeps me going.

Katie is adorable.. but we want to see the full out tantrum pics.. blackmail for later on in life ;)

Grand Pooba said...

I think it is awesome that you write these for Kate! She will be able to read back when she's older. I love the pic of her on the beach...so dang cute!

Jenners said...

I just love these letters. So precious, and such a beautiful glimpse into motherhood and all its many stages. My son is not a big tantrum thrower (thank heavens) but when they come, it amazes me how powerful and out of control they are. And it is very very hard for me not to laugh and to take them seriously because they are so oversized and insanely dramatic. But I kind of remember thowing tantrums myself and I know they feel real to the child so I try to take him seriously.

And my son has been obsessed with being "loving" lately -- it is the cutest thing in the world and just warms my heart.

Super cute photos! Love the beach one.

Call Me Cate said...

Sounds like she's taking part in EXTREME TODDLER!!! Love the pics from your trip.

Ann Imig said...

So beautiful. I used to have the patience to document my boys milestones with such love and detail. I hope you will print these in a book for her.

You're so wise that its ALL ebb and flow and "this too shall pass" not just the bad stuff.

What loving wisdom you can pass on to her.

Anonymous said...

i am stealing her next tuesday.... mom said she may have her anyway...but i definitely want to see her :)
jana

That Janie Girl said...

She's so dang beautiful!

C. Beth said...

I think you know from my blog posts how much I relate to this one!!! The tantrums, the questions, the cuddles.