An Experiment Gone Terribly Wrong

There are moments where we get an idea, and we think the idea is brilliant, inspired, and bound to yield miraculous results. Those ideas are especially welcome when learning how to reach the needs of a little girl who often seems like a law unto herself. When I heard banging and crashing over the monitor instead of the silent rumble of the air filter during our daughter's nap, I was frustrated. When she should be sleeping, she creeps around the room, pulls open every drawer, and removes everything looking for the perfect cloth to compliment her thumb sucking. When I tucked her back in and it happened again I was perturbed. When it happened a third time I was angry. I stormed up to her room, picked her up from the floor where she had just open her blanket bin and threw them everywhere, and put her in our baby's crib to sleep. Well, the monitor was only slightly quieter. My angry response really bothered me and consumed my thoughts for a while, when I finally decided to put her back into her toddler bed as a way to show that I was sorry for losing my temper. But, the same banging and crashing happened again. As I was still feeling remorseful, I tried to think of what I could do. I know my daughter is brilliant, curious, energetic, etc., and that one day she will find a cure for cancer or engineer the first human habitat on another planet. But even scientists and engineers need to learn existing rules before they fashion new ones. For some reason the song, "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria" came to my head. As I still felt remorseful, I felt inspired to experiment by walking into her room while she was wreaking havoc instead of sleeping, turn on the light, leave some train track pieces in the middle of the floor, and walk out without saying a thing. Seeing the confused look on her face was pretty humorous. Things were quiet for a while before the banging and the crashing started again. But, I stayed downstairs hoping that there was a possibility that if she chose not to nap, she would at least use the time constructively. Another CRASH, followed by a little voice saying, "Uh Oh!" dashed those hopes. Up I went to find drawers pulled out, bins opened, clothes and linens everywhere, and of course a little girl with soaking wet pants. On the bright side, she did figure out how to build a short train track. I was speechless--by choice, because I didn't want to say anything unkind in my anger. I changed the sheets and cleaned up the room, all the while giving her a lecture that I knew she didn't understand and would do no good. She did repeat a couple of words though, like "yisten" and "obey". Before I finished cleaning, my daughter climbed back onto the bed, getting the clean sheets wet from her pants. I put her in the bath with her baby sister, whom she had woken up with her racket, and re-changed the sheet. When everything was back to normal, my daughter put on her cutest act, of course, pretending to go "bye-bye" into a fort we built and saying, "I'll miss you!" It took until dinner for embers of frustration to finally go out, but they did. She's asleep and cute as can be again. But sometimes I hope that she will be discovered at the age of two by some brilliant scientist who sees her potential and agrees to take her right now and train her full-time. I reckon the seeds of greatness in a little child often yields a little extra frustration for the parents. Sweetie, when you read this post in the future, I hope you take it as a compliment or at least get a little laugh out of it. You really are a priceless jewel.