Little Miss Independence

Okay, it’s getting ridiculous. Our “baby” Juliette – all of 16 months and some odd days old – has set her sights upon becoming a fully-independent person as soon as possible.

Up until now it’s been stages of change – she won’t eat baby-food mush anymore but wants to eat what we’re eating, she won’t let us feed her unless it’s exceptional circumstances, she doesn’t want us to hold her hand except to go up and down stairs… the list goes on.

And she just decided to add to it tonight. She’s been teething – big molars popping out of her upper jaw, canines showing through her lower – and cranky. She’s not sleeping through the night again but waking up around midnight shrieking, and last night she wouldn’t calm down or go back to bed. She wouldn’t even accept Becoming-A-Mom’s breasts! (I tell you, Becoming-A-Mom was a bit hurt by that). And she made it very clear that she wasn’t about to drink any baby Tylenol either – she pushed the spoon away and made spitting noises, telling us that if we dared to put that in her mouth she’d spit it out.

So eventually Becoming-A-Mom decided to try letting her watch a Baby Einstein DVD. That worked – and in a few minutes Juliette calmed down enough to take a spoonful of Tylenol.

Tonight? Nope. She screamed and thrashed and ran away and yelled and made to grab the spoon (which was full). Every attempt to hold her hands or get her to open up to drink the Tylenol was for naught, and she was a Very Angry Girl. Finally we poured it back into the bottle and let her grab the spoon.

Now all was well! No more crying, thrashing or otherwise. So Becoming-A-Mom poured the Tylenol into the spoon as Juliette held it, and Voila! Tylenol taken with nary a yell or protest!

Such a simple task, such a great victory. And man, am I ever tired.