Her mother's daughter...

It is not always easy being Lilly's mother. That child tries my patience on a daily basis. She's exasperating. It seems she always wants the opposite of what I am offering her. And recently she's added kicking and piercing screams to her already perfected temper tantrums. The screaming sometimes sends me reeling into the future, wondering what we'll fight about when she's a teenager. I imagine doors slamming and shouting matches where words are spewed forth that neither of us mean. I know one thing; I had better get my game face on by then or I am in trouble for sure.

Then there are the times when she practically laughs in my face. She's not afraid of me. This afternoon I gave Ryan a container of yogurt and she pitched a fit for one too.

What exactly does "pitched a fit" mean? Pitched a fit means she was screaming, crying and trying to take Ryan's yogurt away from him. He pushed her away and with that she realized he was not going to give it up. She then went running to the refrigerator. Once she got there she attempted to open the doors so she could retrieve her own yogurt. She failed and fell miserably to the floor in hysterics. All of this took place in a mere 10 to 15 seconds.

I gave her a yogurt (of course) and after two or three bites she turned it into finger paint. She was swirling it around and slapping her hands against the table sending it splattering across the room. I admit I yelled at her, telling her to stop. She looked at me and continued as if I were cheering for her. She continued her antics even while I was trying to clean her hands. Then just as I was finishing she threw her head back hitting it on the back of the chair. She cried, but whaled even louder when she opened her eyes just wide enough to realize the yogurt had been wiped clean.

I know she is only 20 month old, but Ryan never acted like her. Sure, a few time here and there when he was younger, but I know reprimands got his attention at the same age. Ryan has always wanted to please us. It is as if Lilly wants to buck the system and do her own thing. I respect that. I am even at times proud of that, but it doesn't mean she is easy.

I have shared Lilly stories with my Dad on many occasions and he always chuckles and tells me that at one time he also knew at little girl that acted the same way. At first I didn't want to hear that I was a difficult child. I didn't want to hear that I gave my parents more than their share of grief and angst. I have had time to think about it and my perspective has changed; I am starting to understand that a strong will can take one far. I also like the notion that I have given Lilly more than just her brown hair and blue eye. I like the notion that I have given her spunk and a bit of my personality. Why not like it? I like myself. I like who I am as a person and how I have turned out. I am successful. I am compassionate. I am fiercely independent. So maybe, just maybe, she gets it honestly. Maybe she's her mother's daughter after all.