Our door bell rang before dinner tonight. It was Mia and Lilly and Sarah, and they wanted Evie to come out and play. Chris was doing most of the work grilling anyway, so out we went. I brought popsicles as an appetizer, and the girls slurped away. A few minutes later, the door opened across the street, and out came Olivia and her mom. Another popsicle, and we were having an impromptu party!
Somewhere during all of this, my phone rang. As I talked, Olivia's mom pulled our wagon from the garage for the kids. I watched Evie lug the wagon down the sidewalk, with Olivia's mom keeping a close eye on her. (I love my neighbors!)
Then I heard the ruckus. Evie was yelling and crying "No! No! No!" Olivia's mom was just trying to help Evie turn the wagon around and head back to our house. Plus, one wheel was off the sidewalk and in the grass. Evie couldn't possibly maneuver it back onto the pavement by herself.
And this was the cause for the trouble. You see, Evie wants no help. She doesn't want your help when she's washing her hands. Please don't try to help her up or down the stairs. Don't even think about PUSHING her in the stroller when we go for a walk. No, sir. She wants to push the stroller, by herself. Thank you very much, but she thinks she is grown up.
So we endure lots of frustrated crying while Evie sorts this out. Being grown up in such a little body presents a lot of trials. She can't reach things she needs, or she's not strong enough as the case was today. But she still insists on doing it herself.
Tonight I took the wagon, turned it around, and offered to let Evie pull it back to our house. Her feelings were hurt so she just walked in front of me, crying real tears. It must be difficult to want independence, but be trapped in a baby body! Her time will come...
World, watch out for this one!
5 hours ago