Day 549: Picking our battles

A lot of my issues with motherhood have stemmed from the fact that it turns out I am a bit of a control nut. Who knew? Lurking beneath this ultra-cool and laid back exterior is a big old type A personality. I like schedules. I like patterns. I like for things to make sense. Maddie however, like most 18-month olds, is more a fly-by-the-seat-of-her-diapers kind of a girl.

Some moms are able to admit the truth, which is that their kids control their lives. I am still in denial on that one, but I am learning to focus my need for control on a few select issues. For example, it has become strangely important to me that she does not stand up on the couch, on the footstool, anywhere other than the ground, really. We have daily battles over it, she and I, but I am intent on winning. Having some level of control on these tiny, irrelevant issues seems to make it easier for me to deal with the complete chaos that reigns supreme over the rest of our lives.

The other day we were finishing up a few errands and I told her it was time to go to the car. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because she panicked. She ran out of my reach and onto the Starbucks patio, inadvertently cornering herself. Realizing she had no escape route, she dropped to the sidewalk and started crying, literally rolling underneath the tables to get away from me. All I could do was stand there and stare at her in disbelief. There are places where it is acceptable to roll around on the floor, but really Starbucks isn’t one of them. It’s not the type of atmosphere they’re going for, you know?

There was a time when this type of public display would have had me cringing with embarrassment, but I was surprisingly okay with it. She may roll around in filth and spilled cappuccinos, but at least she doesn’t stand on the sofa. Like a mom friend of mine once told me, you pick your battles. I may not be picking the right ones, but it’s good enough for now.