Not what I meant

Oh boy does Sofía know how to throw tantrums. She’s not the loudest, kickiest, screamiest baby I ever heard, but she’s darn persistent. She can wail and whimper and whine for half an hour.

This new trait has not been helped by the recent proliferation of sweets at our house: first I made a peach pie to use up the last of the peaches that were slowly withering in the fridge; then I had to make whoopie pies and banana bread for the Mom’s Club bake sale, and then there were some chocolate-dipped marshmallows. She’s had her share of treats lately, though I do limit them for both of us.

Still, like any little kid she’s crazy for more. While I was making the whoopie pies she threw a big fall-on-the-floor tantrum to get one of the cookies. I kept patiently telling her no (and the reasons why), and suggesting alternative “real” foods because she’d said she was hungry. After about 15 minutes I gave up and just asked her.

“What do you want besides a cookie?”

She perked right up with a hopeful, but confused, grin.

“Yes, mommy, yes! OK! Sofía DO want the sides of a cookie!”

Whoops.

The resulting broken-hearted wailing probably had the neighbors calling CPS.

One Response to “Not what I meant”

  1. Heidi Says:

    Well, we do know she (like her mother) has a way with words…and a deep-seated belief that it will all work out….her way.Good luck with the twos. and stick it out. She is really smart and will realize in time it is easier to do it your way…and maybe more productive in the long run. (cookie anyone?)

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