A Wednesday Momming Around Entry

The other night when Z threw a fit because seconds of applesauce were not as readily forthcoming as she wished, Husband distracted her with a new chant: “Super-ego, super-ego, super-ego…”

She has none, of course. Not yet, anyway. She is driven by id, the part of her wanting that extra heaping spoonful of applesauce, more time with her blocks, and Mama’s tenth consecutive rendition of “Hey Look Me Over” (complete with interpretive dance moves…don’t ask).

And the thing is, the id is so honest when it doesn’t have the super-ego after it, making a person feel guilty or want to act appropriately. Z wants what she wants, and she’ll tell you about it. Loudly, if necessary.

Lately what Z wants more than anything is to exert control over her immediate environment. She organizes (well, it looks like organizing, but when a stuffed gecko, Duplos, and a teapot all end up in the same box, it’s anybody’s guess), she chooses her clothes, she rearranges (small pieces) of furniture. She’s taken to bringing things to the kitchen while I fix lunch or wash the Everest of dishes. If lunch actually requires heating up food and more than a five minute wait, we’re in danger of drowning in toys and whatever largish items she can haul in there (for example: the bike, the doll cradle, Mr. Penguin and the rest of her stuffed animals, a large selection of books, a foam booster seat that she likes to sit on and cover with blankets, “her” dish towels, puzzle pieces, and of course the blocks).

And that’s perfectly normal, right? For a toddler to want to control her environment?

I guess the only problem is I’m trying to control my environment, too, and we’re living in the same one.

She wins, for now, because I’ll gladly take tripping over the occasional board book over her side leg tackle trick she likes to do while I’m working at the kitchen counter. Usually chopping fruit or using a sharp instrument for some kind of meal preparation.