I know why the caged doodie sings...

I know why I am so afraid of potty training.

Eureka!

It has nothing to do with Girl's abilities as a toddler. I know she can do it. She will do it when she's ready, just like everything else.

Every task I have ever thrown at her, has been handled the best way she knows how.

Some examples:

• She gave up the bottle at 8 months old. Just woke up one day and wouldn't take the bottle. She wanted a cup with a straw.

• She gave up the binkie just around the same time as the bottle. Just stopped using it.

• With all of her social anxieties as a baby and small toddler, she is blooming like the flower that I know she can be. She is talkative and more social than ever. She is smart and sassy and brave and when she wants something bad enough. She gets it...even if it's not from me.

• She talks to her teacher and her friends more, she is open and clearly enjoying herself at school. She's not as shy as I once thought.
  

• She can enjoy parties and loud places better than ever and she even sat through Diego without much incident.
  

This kid rocks.

It's me with the issues. (Sorry to be such a downer lately...)

I find myself doing too much for her including dressing her...because it's just faster.

Why wait for her to dress herself and start earlier in the day when I can get 20 more minutes of sleep time and dress her quickly myself?

brain says: Stupid.

...It's because I am helping her gain self-confidence and independence...

brain says: Stupid.

...If she gains those things too quickly, she won't need me anymore...

brain says: Stupid.

These days I am just finding it difficult to let go. I feel like losing her too fast would again make me feel that deep pain of loss I already feel on a daily basis. But for her. And I can't do that. That's too much pressure to place on such a small person.

Do you realize she has never been in anyone's car other than my own and my husband's? I won't allow her own family drive her anywhere. I won't allow her to sleep anywhere but home and I won't allow her to go anywhere without me or my husband.

I'm an official helicopter mom. I hover.

Even at the park I follow her around.

I never thought I would be, but I am. It just happens.

I gotta getta grip.

Mista says that when I'm not around she's a different kid. She's outgoing and uninhibited. I see her that way too...but he claims even more so. He took her to a friend's house recently where I have never seen her go into the basement to play with the kids. They went without me. (I musta been partying it up on the boulevard somewhere.) He says she went right into the basement and he only saw her again when it was time to leave. Where she proceeded to KISS everyone G'bye. Including the KIDS...What the? Not with me she doesn't do that.

And it's not like I don't tell her to do those things either. I force her to play and kiss and shit. Jesus. I can't stand it.

I have to let expect her to be more independent. And I do. Sometimes. I let her do certain things on her own. But I have to start letting go. She's getting big and she's strong and she's smart and I have to give her the benefit of the doubt in this thing called toddlerhood/preschool years.

She is so eager to please and will do (almost) anything I ask her to. And she is really eager to be independent..But when she knows I'll do it for her, she gives up. That's a terrible trait to have taught my daughter. And I did that. Hence, potty issue #4,367.

And I am so proud when she is independent and strong. But. I feel her slipping away. Ever so slowly...its happening. But. I need to know that she will always be my heart and my daughter. And I will always be her mother.

Otherwise I am going to stunt her. Just like I am stunted today. I am not fully 'grown up' for many reasons but when my mother passed, I died a little too...I lost a lot of my teenage years due to blinding greif. And if I was allowed to be just slightly more independent as a kid, I may have handled my grief differently.

I can't allow myself to do that to the only person I let live in my heart. I can't hold her back any longer.

I need to let her be.

Or she will leave me because I smother her.

Maybe then, she'll start using that potty.

I'll think about her teenage years when I get to that bridge...

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I know why the caged bird sings:
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind
and floats downstream till the current ends
and dips his wing in the orange suns rays and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage
can seldom see through his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom.
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*And on to a much lighter topic*
Last night, my best bud/step sister (Hey A!) came in from Virginia and we took pictures of our cleavage and other obscure body parts on our cell phones and use them for photo iD's when we call each other now...
Talk about deep. Right?
No, you will NOT see those posted up here.
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