I haven't posted in awhile, but quite a lot has happened, not all of which I can put into one post. But of one of the biggest life events that has occurred for Ava is that she has entered toddlerhood with a vengeance! I am talking screaming, babbling, pushing, hitting, ornery, running, destructive, sweet, funny toddlerhood.
Gone are the days when our daughter would just sit quietly in public like a doe-eyed baby, taking it all in while sitting and listening to her world in captivated interest. Gone. Gone, I tell you. Welcome to embarrassing shopping sprees, restaurant bans, and all out WAR. Now for the first few weeks, when she was becoming intolerable in restaurants and our grocery trips had become Hell on Earth, I passed it off to being sleepy, maybe overstimulated, maybe it was my fault or bad timing in the day.
Then on one sunny day, I took Ava on a pretty routine and mundane trip to the grocery. What happened was nothing short of an F5 sh#t storm. Immediately, she wanted to get out of the cart, so I buckled her in tighter. Then as I am deciding on which yogurt we'll like, I see my daughter's foot slung over the cart, she's giving full on grunts as she shimmies her body upwards, out of the belt and before I know it, she's standing up in the cart BOUNCING no less, giving out victorious cries of happiness. My GOD! I didn't know I had given birth to a contortionist! I picked her up, attempting to sit her back down...oh hell no! Her knees lock, she gives out immediate screams of rage, the entire dairy aisle is staring at me. I physically bent her knees and buckled her back in. And that was the end of it...I mean, me. Screaming, screaming, screaming. For the rest of the trip.
I put her on the ground to see if walking would make it stop, nope. She threw herself on the ground and wailed. Then when I tried to pick her up, she got up and ran from me. So here I am, I am chasing after a 12 month old through the soup aisle, she starts to giggle and I immediately feel my blood pressure reaching the tipping point as she grabs a bunch of cans and throws them onto the ground. When these types of things happen to me, I literally feel like I am having an "out of body" experience. I imagine that I am looking down on the situation and literally thinking, how did I get here? Who am I? Who is this child??
Anyways, I pick her up, in something like a football hold and I continue along. Now there's just something about carrying a 22 pound, kicking, screaming child that really brings life and your grocery list into perspective. Like, do I really need another bag of potatoes this week? No. Moving on. I get what is absolutely essential and I get into the shortest check-out line I can find and I set her in the cart, fully expecting the chaos to continue. But it doesn't. In the check-out line she is riveted to the cashier and the grocery belt. Life is back to normal. She sits in the cart and blankly stares at the cashier with a tear-stained face and a snotty nose. Never again, I think to myself, still shaking with a sore arm and back. Never again.
Just imagine how much fun she was the last time we went to a Thai restaurant...a month ago. The last restaurant she will ever go to again! It wasn't pretty. For those that are childless, I liken it to being handcuffed to that drunken best friend that you really don't know what to do with...you love them, and you know that they are really just "going through some tough times", but you also know that any fast movements or new places are likely to set him off. So you pacify him with music, shiny objects and happy water, until he passes out in a corner and you can get yourself a slice of quiet for the day.
