Are All Toddlers Sadists?

Because my daughter is a sadist.

Well, "sadist" implies intent and, as far as I know, she doesn’t plan to hurt her parents. I do imagine that Claire was a pro-wrestler and/or a professional torturer in a former life, though. The pro-wrestler Claire knows all about simple, blunt force – pulling hair and beards, bouncing up and down on bladders or livers, an uncomplicated whack here or there. It’s all pretty straightforward and packs a punch.

The torturer is practiced in the art of finesse. These attacks usually involve some sort of subtle rearranging of internal organs or intimate contact with the viscera of the body. Claire will take one, tiny thumb and search the face for a sinus cavity to dig into. She’ll find the tender spot in the mouth where the teeth and gums meet, like she’s seen Marathon Man one too many times. She’ll reach through the skin and wrap all her fingers around a cheekbone or neck muscle, squeezing it like she’s checking a loaf of bread for freshness. There’s uncanny knowledge of just how far to twist the nipple, Adam’s Apple or ear lobe, in order to induce pain.

I try to breathe and tell myself that it’s all good fine motor skills practice. I try to remember that there’s so much in the world that Claire wants to explore, including its internal workings.

But when I imagined having a baby, I didn’t think I’d be the subject of a real life version of the game Operation.

On a more positive note, Claire is starting to get the gist of "gentle hands" after the millionth time. I have reason to be optimistic that her torturous ways are merely temporary. If the situation doesn't continue to improve, I see a bright future as a CIA operative.


Connect with: Bloglovin', FB, Twitter, G+, Pinterest

Why?

We moms. We're a bright bunch. It's been said that we have eyes in the back of our heads. We can distinguish the particular brand of silence that says our children are up to something, even when we're in different rooms. An instinct kicks in when they're ready to act like a bull in a china shop. We know the look in their eyes that means they're hatching their next plan or telling a lie, sometimes even before they know it.

So why are we so surprised every time it happens? By "it" I mean the endless supply of irrational, impulsive and destructive things that occur on a daily basis.

When Claire rubs crayon into the Oriental carpet or sticks her hand in the trash for the hundredth time, I'm always shocked. Each time, it feels like the first time.

Each time, I want to say "Why did you just do that?" I want to say, "Didn't I just tell you not to?" I want to say, "Why don't you listen?"

When I'm particularly flabbergasted, I want to scream "Why, why, why?" to the heavens. Sometimes I do.

Am I just an eternal optimist, whose hopes are dashed each day? Do I wake up every morning believing that today will be different? Today she will listen. Today she will respect my things. Today she will follow my well-defined rules.

Of course not. I know a child needs to learn how to behave. She needs practice. She needs to be told over and over again. She needs to break the rules, even.

Yet, each time my child shows a kid's nature, I'm surprised.

I think it's because I want to be able to let my guard down every now and then. But, when I do, no good comes of it.

It sucks not being able to let your guard down every now and then.

That's why.


Connect with: Bloglovin', FB, Twitter, G+, Pinterest