Olivia started swimming lessons last week and I don't think I have ever seen her so excited. She shrieks, she kicks, she is the first person in line to go down the slide into the water. She's never the first in line to do anything, but she loves her some swimming.
I was so glad to see her like this. I needed to see her like this, because frankly it's pretty much been a 24-hour scream-fest around here lately. Although the screaming has nothing on the hitting. Olivia has long been a hitter, but things have progressed lately. Today she hit me twice with a closed fist and once in the back. With a broom. Her little play broom, but still. I have been a bit at my wits end as my "Hitting Hurts" speech has not been cutting it.
I don't know if it is new baby anxiety. She's been asking to sit in her high chair and telling me that the baby can't use it. I wanted to talk about her behavior with our nurse practitioner yesterday, but once she saw that O's A1c was 6.9 (!!), all she really had to say was, "Yeah, she's almost three." And I know that it can be a tough age. She's trying to assert some control. Over me.
Despite the broom and the fit about wearing my make-up...and my jewelry...and the one about socks, today did go better than yesterday and I think that is because I was able to keep myself together a bit more. If I can just ride it out, not raise my voice, keep repeating the same thing, she does seem to eventually burn out. It takes awhile; she has a lot of what the book I bought yesterday in a weepy, desperate plea for help calls "negative persistence." Indeed.
With all of this going on, I have hardly allowed myself to think about the baby. Other than the occasional "This poor kid. His sister is going to eat us both for lunch."Update:
What do you know? I already posted this here
six months ago. Except I was more eloquent, wasn't pregnant and had a vacation on the horizon. Yikes.
Labels: A1c, babies, Baby Boy, endo, Olivia, photos, three year old