She’s going to be one next week. We love her with a love we didn’t know exists. Every blink of her eye, tongue stuck out brings us joy. In her new highchair Allison reigns the kitchen. When her spit bubbles and she says Ma Ma, I quiver, take her out of the high chair and almost hug her to death.
But there was a change this morning. She showed a temper, screamed, didn’t want me to take her out of her highchair. Her pink sippy cup went flying to the floor. I asked her, ‘What’s wrong, Baby?’ All she did was stare at the cup on the floor and cry. I guessed she wanted it back but first I put it in the dishwasher and brought her a clean yellow one. Before I could pour apple juice in it, Allison threw that one on the floor too. Her face reddened. She laughed an actual laugh. I did not think that was cute. My anger got to me. I scolded, ‘Bad girl. Bad girl.’ Allison cried so loud Mac came running in from the living room where he had been watching Tiger apologize for his infidelity to his wife, to the world, for too long. Mac asked me what was going on, what had I done to Allison. I was rewarded with a sweet tap on my rear and words of understanding, ‘You did right, Honey. She’ll get over it.’
I lifted my former angel out of her throne and she bit me. With only four baby teeth showing, she did no harm, except to tell me in her own way, not to hit her again. Surrounded by dolls and chenille balls and her favorite fuzzy bunny, I left her in her play pen. In a second, she stood, held onto the side and walked to where the bunny lay on its side. My mouth dropped open. She picked it up and threw it out, hitting Mac on his knee. He gave it back and got hit a second time. Next she threw out one of her dolls. My patience was exhausted. I carried her upstairs and was kicked all the way up. Heading towards her crib and a nap, we passed the hall bathroom. Allison stopped kicking, crying and became quiet. I saw her look in there. Why? Her sweet smile bloomed again. What did she want? Her Pamper was surely sopping wet so I laid my daughter on the bathroom mat and removed the uncomfortable Pamper. It went right into the plastic bag kept near the trash can. Allison’s eyes definitely were on the toilet. She stared and stared. I took the brand new toidy seat out of the closet where it was meant to stay until she was almost two, and attached it to the adult toilet seat. Allison put her arms out to me and I seated her, strapped her tight and safe. In a few minutes my little girl began to make big girl grunts. There were some plop plops. Allison looked at me, her arms out again. I looked in the toilet and flushed. A fresh Pamper in place I carried her back downstairs, put her in the play pen again. Tiger was finally finished apologizing and Mac was watching a wrestling match.
I interrupted his concentration to tell him what our daughter had done, how smart she was to toilet train herself. Neither of us really believed that happened, but it did. Allison was her young self again, happy. She pointed to her bunny laying on the floor. I gave it to her. She smiled her biggest smile and said, ‘Mother,’
Mac told me I fainted and I am sure he was right.
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