Miss Independence….

Toddlers are well known for exploring their independence.  They all seem to go through that phase of “I do it MYSELF” stage.   We are currently experiencing the “I do it” stage with little Miss Alivia.  From day one she has proven to be a funny mixture of mommy/daddy’s girl to her own kind of beastie.  She has an advantage that Mr. Davian didn’t, in that she has a living example that is close to her age, and well, her size.  She watches his every move, studying each step he makes.  I remember catching them last summer.  He was exploring his new ‘tie’ tennis shoes, fiddling with the laces.  He wasn’t actually tying them yet, but was exploring how they worked.  Alivia was right next to him – taking in every movement and filing it away in that tiny little brain of hers that never stops.

Having mastered silverware, drinking from a cup, and potty training…her royal highness decided that it was time to work on clothes.  Now she has been able to undress herself without help (for the most part) for some time.  Saturday morning everyone got up, got dressed and proceeded to go about their usual business.  About midmorning, I wandered down to her room to check to see that she wasn’t climbing the desk or swinging from the curtains (no joke – it happens).  Instead I found her standing in the middle of her room, butt naked with a small pile of cloths that she had just removed.  She was holding a little striped shirt that she had managed to wrestle from its hanger in the closet. 

“Put it on” she demanded.

“Ok” I said as I reached for the shirt.

“NO!  I put it on!” came the reply as she clutched the shirt to her tiny chest.

Since it was Saturday and we had no plans to go anywhere anytime soon, and Davian was happily occupied on the couch with is ‘futer’ and Toy Story on the television, I opted to sit down on the bed and watch.

“Ok, you put it on” I said calmly.  Alivia gave a big smile then set about what would become a 20 minute battle of wits…between her and the clothing.

First came the shirt.  I watched patiently while she struggled to figure out where the arms were, where the head was, and how her little body was supposed to work with these strange components.  It was a might struggle, but after several minutes she managed to get the shirt on….inside out.  Pleased with herself, she moved on to her underpants.  It was vanquished quickly as she had by this time learned that the Princesses went in front.  Then came the sweat pants…these were a little trickier.  After several attempts, she managed to keep from getting both legs in the same pant leg.  There was a lot of discussion about this, but she finally got it, never mind that the pants were backwards.

The socks came last.  Apparently socks are her arch enemy.  It so happens that these sock had the rubber grips on the bottom (that spell out the size) and grey on the toe and heel.  If they were adult socks I would call them ankle socks – not to high up the leg but certainly not footie.  Of course for Alivia, being on the short side, the socks probably were closer to mid-calf.  She eyed sock #1 carefully, turning it over in her little hands, studying it from every angle.  After settling on a game plan, she plopped down on the floor and began her attack.  Let me tell you, as a mommy, it was everything I could do to keep from snorting with laughter.  The poor kid was rolling around on the floor, foot in the air, trying to get that damn sock on her foot.  It threw her four times before she managed to get all her toes inside.  Finally she managed to get her pudgy little foot totally encased, only to discover the sock was upside down.  Off came the sock along with a lot of noise, wails, and grunts of frustration.

“Do you want some help?” I offered once I gained some composure.  (Hard to do when your two year old is being rolled across the floor by a sock).

“NO – I do it MYSELF!” came the almost war-cry response.

Determined not to let a sock get the best of her – she once again grasped the sock.  More rolling across the floor….more grunts of determination…more babbling incoherently….until finally….sweet success!  Please with herself, she went after sock #2 with gusto.  Finally, after what seemed like hours, she was dressed.

It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t neat, but she was covered….and she did it herself…..