Dear Scarlett,
You are in bed, Dad is at work, and I am sitting amidst a pile of papers in the dining room streaming Jack White's new album. I'm ostensibly getting organized, but what is really happening is that I'm slowly shaking off the day. It was not our best. For the past two days you've had a really hard time listening and following instructions. I realize you're two. But you've actually been much better at this in the recent past. Today you ran away from me numerous times in public places, once directly towards a parking lot, where a total stranger had to stop you. You broke a glass, you knocked everything off the coffee table, you refused to get into your car seat, you poured your snack all over the floor. I will admit, I was very angry with you. And with myself, because I need to be more prepared for this behavior, and more able to deal with it patiently. Today is also a day (not the first) that I seriously considered getting you a child leash. Ugh, just seeing those words is horrible. But watching you nearly run into a crowded parking lot was definitely more horrible. In the car on the way home, you said "When Mommy calls you, you have to stop." But I think you're just paying lip service to that concept.
So it was a rough day, but we've also had a lot of successes lately that I want to write about. You got your green ribbon in swim class for swimming all on your own, including kicking and paddling. You are potty trained, and it was a whole lot easier than I thought it would be. You are funny and conversational, though still bossy. When you want me or Dad to do something now, you just inform us that we will do it. "Mommy will sit down," you'll say, gesturing to the spot where I'm supposed to be. When I tell you to ask politely, you'll throw in a cursory "please" with a look on your face that I expect to see a lot more of when you're 15.
On Tuesday morning of last week, you woke up to find that Pops had arrived for a visit. You were so excited, you couldn't stand still for the rest of the week. We rode the cable car, went to the aquarium, watched Uncle Rob's softball game, and danced at the Farmer's Market. Pops even got to see you receive your swimming ribbon. Now that I think about it, maybe all of your naughtiness is a response to Pop's departure. I miss him, too.
But I am optimistic that things will improve. After all, tomorrow is another day.
Love,
Mom
