Tantrum Much?

Inevitably when I write about how AMAZING a day is, the $h*# hits the fan. When will I learn.

This morning was horendous, ridiculous, awful awful terrible.

Ainsley threw a complete an utter fit. Screaming and heaving, scratching at her bare thighs, tears STREAMING down her face...all because of a pair of pants. A PAIR OF PANTS!

Ainsley's opinions about her own personal style have been growing by leaps and bounds. It's gotten moderatly annoying at times (like when I'd like her to wear matching tops and bottoms to bed, long sleeves in the winter, and no tutus when she sleeps). But truthfully it's been kind of fun too. Most of the time I love her little mismatched style, seeing what she chooses to go together and learning what her favorites are.

Then I have mornings like today. For her birthday I bought her a corduroy jumper and she pretty much refuses to wear it. I knew she'd put up a fight when I brough it down this morning, but it's so dang cute and she's going to grow out of it soon and gosh darnit I was just sick of her dictating every little ensemble.

I had barely pulled the jumper out of the pile for her to see when the trouble started. It would have been one thing if she would have calmly said "no like it mama, nother one please!" which she has been getting better and better about requesting. Instead she launched immiediatley into a tailspin. After two time outs, 5 minutes of me soildly ignoring her (and loudly praising Louise for being so calm hoping she would catch wind) I called Ian. Talking to him calmed her a bit and she was able to articulate to me through heaving cries that she "no like it mama, just wanna wear brown pants".

I know that this was a battle that wasn't worth fighting. I know I shouldn't have tried to put the darn tootin' jumper on her in the first place. But I did. Part of me had to. I was so tired of this sweet little 2 year old getting her way and throwing tantrums over mundane things. At one point Louise looked up into her sister's red screaming face and laughed at her. I had to turn my head as I chuckled to.

When will Ainsley learn that the little things don't matter? When will she understand that sometimes we do things for other people to make them happy. I am genuinely a little hurt that she refuses to wear the two hand knit sweaters that I made her for the winter, or the hood for those cold-ish days. I bought her that jumper because my Ainsley loves pockets and skirts and buttons and straps. I thought it would be her favorite thing. She hates it so much that she was willing to almost lose her breakfast (and musikgarten) over it.

Sheesh.

I know I know. She's two. But today I don't care. Today I want to talk to her like an adult (or at least a seven year old) and understand what's going through that little angry head of hers. I want to know why every little disturbance or obstacle feels like THE END OF THE WORLD to her.

Thankfully we finally agreed on a pair of pants, wiped our faces, walked in the rain to musikgarten, had a blast and everyone is now napping away this dreary afternoon.

I may never look at a jumper the same way again.

A few good photos always help to brighten even the yuck-o days.

::impromptu knit hat and tank top photo shoot::

(and yes, those are baby jelly shoes Louise is holding)

::Ainsley's wardrobe staples, red party shoes and strewn tutus::

I sure am a lucky mom, even on the ickiest of days.