Proceed With Caution

I look back over the past year with joy and pride, but it's bittersweet. Eva is no longer a baby, and that's difficult to accept. Already I miss how tiny and cuddly she was, though she's turning into a beautiful little girl. Lately people have stopped asking how they can tell she needed glasses "so young", because she's apparently past the age where it would be considered unusual. We are heading into rough waters, however. Eva's strong will is starting to rear it's head, and at times it's downright ugly. If there's one thing I can't tolerate, it's whining, and it can get on my nerves more quickly than anything else.

While I don't want to reward it, I understand she's often not able to tell me what she needs in other ways. The "baby signs" strategy still hasn't really taken hold yet, largely because I usually forget to use it. Sometimes fussing is the only way she knows how to communicate, especially when she's frustrated or tired. I confess I often tune it out to spare my sanity. She'll want me to hold her, then push me away, pick her up, then put her down. It's a tug-of-war that we dance a thousand times a day; the age-old struggle between wanting the comfort of Mommy and wanting independence at the same time. It's a wearying process. Where do you draw the line between giving them plenty of attention, and being a slave to their every whim?