Lately I can't help but look at Elisa and ponder all the changes she's gone through in just three years. She has learned to sit up and eat, walk and run, speak Spanish and English. She has grown so much taller and become so confident in her body. She dances and sings, engages everyone in conversation and loves to make us laugh. She has a funny, squinty smile she makes when she thinks she's being really hilarious. And truth be told, it's pretty hard not to smile back. That's her saving grace. When she's "on," she couldn't be more lovely. As Abuela once said, Elisa has an inner light that just shines. And I see it too. There is a spontaneity to her and a warmth. She loves making new friends and she holds tight to the ones she adores. But all of that is hard to remember in the heat of the moment when her stubbornness and sense of entitlement take over. She is, afterall, a three year old who does not know patience or gratitude or at least, she doesn't practice them much.
And I hate that. I hate feeling like every day with her is a battle of wills--of trying to explain myself to an irrational, uncompromising bully, but that's the rut we seem stuck in. I think I'm a pretty tolerant mother--all things in moderation and such. Ice cream for breakfast? No. But ask me later and chances are I'll say yes. So why does she push for more, more, more? It feels like nothing is ever enough and giving in only tends to backfire in the most disastrous way. Is it just this age? As much as I try to change my framework for dealing with her, sometimes I think the patterns are set. We know exactly how to drive each other crazy, and yes, say hurtful things. Elisa's favorite expression lately is "today I'm not your friend" which means look out cause she's not having it. My standard response is "that's okay because I'm your mom so I don't need to be your friend." I find that amusing, but apparently she doesn't. And fortunately, I also know how to make up with her and occasionally I get a laugh out of her before it gets too ugly. But man, that's harder and harder to do. We've had a few good days of it together this week while Nacho was working, but I sometimes wonder if that's part of the problem. She seems to behave worse when we are both around more which irks me to no end. It should be the opposite, I feel. But with Elisa, she mellows out considerably when she has only one parent around to clash with.
So who knows. Just as I started this post, I was marveling at all the changes we've seen and wondering what the next three years will bring. And many times I feel that the worst is really behind us. We have so few genuine freakouts now, but they are still colossal when they happen. Just today she had a total meltdown at the museum which was triggered by hunger and fatigue no doubt, but that's no excuse when it comes to the screaming and hitting and flailing about. And maybe it didn't take as long to calm her down, but it's hard to say when you are trying to literally pick her up off the floor so people don't have to walk over her. The fact that she looks like she's 5 and not 3 just adds to the fun of the stares from the viewing public. Oh, yes, this is my girl, but ugh, she's killing me sometimes. Please let her know that I still love everything about her, but I could use a little more of the sweet stuff now and then.
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