Natural Performer

Laila's school had their Moving Up Day for preschoolers on March 18. Of all the songs the kids sang, this is my favorite. Baby Cat had been belting out the song and dance number for over two weeks already. I knew it was from school but I hadn't realized it was part of the Moving Up ceremony.

Laila obviously loves performing in front of a crowd. As you obviously can see from the theater-level movements.

She and I are different in that sense. I can't help but get self-conscious when I'm in front of people, even the ones I know.

I tend to edit myself whenever I talk. To those listening, it could sound like stuttering. That's because I start to say something then my head tells my mouth this word is more appropriate or more descriptive or that the tenses don't match or to keep the voice active instead of passive.

I end up stopping in mid-sentence. That's exactly how I write. Except that it's not obvious from my story how much I edit myself while composing anything as simple as a Thank You note.

Doesn't it make you proud to have a kid who's a model more sophisticated than you? A good contribution for the species.

Mean Girls

Let's just call these two little girls Paris and Nicole.

They live a few floors above us and, from time to time, Baby Cat gets to play with them. But after their bad behavior last weekend, I told the Yaya I don't want her playing with them. I don't want Laila picking up their bad behavior.

I guess it's normal for young kids to have this me-mine attitude. They must like excluding people because it's their way of feeling they belong to a clique. I know young kids tend to get overly protective of their 'possessions.'

But little Nicole--you know, the sidekick--actually shoved Laila away when she tried to get close to them.

Of course I 'calmly' told Nicole 'no pushing.' This little tyke is another only and gets away with almost everything, so she was evidently startled with my tone of voice.

The older one, Paris, was as pushy as Nicole but she was more conscious of my presence so her domineering ways was more directed at her other half.

There were other small kids in the playgroup that Paris an Nicole didn't want in. They were acting like spoiled empresses I wanted to give them a piece of my at-that-moment-not-so-mature mind.

Laila, as always, is oblivious of the power play.

What eats me is that I've never been too patient with girl politics so I don't know how I can help her navigate through the situation. As an elementary grader, I broke off from a group of girls just because I got tired of one girl imposing on the rest of the barkada. I've always had a penchant for being with the odd rather than the in crowd.

To this day, one look at me discourages people from approaching. The first impression I have on people is that I'm masungit and so they tend to keep a safe distance over fears of being snapped at.

I like that actually. But that make me not the best resource person to guide her through these tough, highly political preschool years.

How can I tell her that I deal with bitches by being a bigger bitch?

Colliding Head-on

I notice that my last post was about Laila's tantrum that I triumphantly overcame. This next entry is about a tantrum than I did not.

I never saw it coming. Even with that screaming episode in the bath after I took her washcloth and tried to rub her dry. I succeeded in appeasing the storm then and I was unprepared for another onslaught.

The second wave was triggered by her missing Barbie watch. She just NEEDS to wear the Barbiewatch to school today. The Barney or the Simpsons or the Sponge Bob watch wouldn't do. It has to be the Barbie Watch.

And so she started bawling and sobbing inconsolably. And I, toothbrush in hand, just lost it.

'Fine,' I said, 'don't go to school today.'

I expected the reverse psychology to work since it's had a 99 percent success rate in the past.
It didn't.

'Ok,' Baby cat said, wiping her eyes dry and plopping down in front of the TV.

And so I lost it even more.

'No TV today. Nobody turns the TV on,' I declared, stomping outside.

I was still seething as I finished preparing for work. I was angry at her for being so ferocious. I was angry at Ate because she never fixes Laila's things the way she ought. I was angry at myself that I don't have a better Yaya. Oh what I would pay for reliable help!

I was still angry by the time I got to work. And it lingered until noon. I called home to check on Baby Cat but purposely didn't call her to the phone. I just wanted to check how she was and if my No-TV rule was being followed. It was.

By the time I got home that night, Baby Cat was all sweetness.

Today, she went to school without incident.

Little Person, Giant Meltdown

Perhaps it's a rule of nature for small creatures to compensate for their, uhm, smallness.

That could explain why the teeny-tiny ant has such painful bite or why Pinschers have a nasty bark. It would also explain why toddlers and preschoolers have tantrums as devastating as Milenyo. Their inability to orally express themselves adds gustiness to the hurricane that is known by the international designation Tantrum.

Baby Cat had a major meltdown the other Sunday. It was one of those rare supertyphoons that took half an hour to calm down. That's an execptionally long tantrum for Laila.

She was screaming, thrashing, pushing, stomping and hurling all the invectives she knew.

'Mommy, get out! Get out!...You go on time out!...Time out! 10 minutes! Time out!'

And all that for a lollipop with a light-up handle that I mistakenly whisked from her without warning. A lot of blame is on me, I know.

I took the lollipop without asking and it was plain rude. But it was waaay past her bedtime and I knew she was tired from the daylong excursion. And, let me stress this, she wasn't even licking the lollipop. (The morning after I realize that she didn't want the whole lollipop, just the handle! If I knew, I would've thrown out the candy and let her play a little with the friggin stick.)

Poor baby. She was so tired and I ticked her off even more. I tried to pacify her, but she was beyond the point of being pacified.

'Get out Mommy. Leave me alone!' she sobbed.

Of course I wasn't about to let her be by herself in that state. To begin with, we never really leave her alone in a room because she might mistakenly lock herself in. Plus, it was also my bedtime and I was not inclined to stand up from bed.

'Let's just pretend Mommy isn't here, Ok?'

She paused a little, looking at me.

'But you're still there! Waaaaahhhhhhhh!!!'

At that point I hid my face behind one of the pillows. I wasn't about to add insult to injury by letting her see me laugh at her.

+++

Baby Cat calmed down 5 minutes after that conversation. We went to bed snickering that we beat Daddy Cat to sleep.

I've read a lot of literature explaining a little person's tantrums but I can never fully understand how they achieve a full recovery so quickly. They're like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Bruce Banner and The Hulk.