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| Julie and Charlotte, side by side |
Too Cute Tot ... or Tyrant Toddler?
by Beverly Beckham
Is your grandchild a devil, an angel, or a little bit of both? One grandma shares how even the sweetest looks can be deceiving.
There are hints in my daughter’s baby book that maybe she wasn’t quite as sweet as I remember. “Julie has REALLY discovered her voice — also has [a] definite mind of her own.” I wrote when she was just four months old.
What could I have meant? How loud could a four-month-old be?
"Julie is up and down the steps all day long."
"Oh, can Julie run!"
"Julie insists upon dressing herself. What combinations!"
Her sister Lauren, who was 5 when Julie was born and witness, she says, to a reign of terror, insists that Julie was a handful but that I didn’t mind. That I thought everything she did, from pitching a fit to rising before the sun every morning, was cute and adorable.
Is it possible she may be right?
Fast-forward 31 years and say hello to Charlotte, Julie’s 17-month-old cute and adorable daughter.
Blonde, blue-eyed, 20-something pounds, and still able to walk under the kitchen table, Charlotte is the kind of child who even people who prefer dogs coo at on the street.
She looks like an angel but, in fact, is more like Attila the Hun.
Put her in her carriage and she can be all sweetness and light. A smile here. A laugh there. "Unk!" she says pointing at a tree. "Unk!" she says grinning at a dog.
But take her out of the carriage and let her run free and it’s "Batten down the hatches, mates!" and "Take your posts!"
For Charlotte doesn’t walk into a room. She invades it. She storms through the door, marches across the kitchen with Marine resolve, then tears into the family room, grabbing this and that, a talking doll, a stuffed bear, the remote, a bowl of peanut shells (Who left peanut shells in the family room?), and tosses everything onto the floor.
In less than a minute the room has been plundered.
And won.
And then she swaggers on.
Visigoths would shudder at her shadow.
Charlotte is not your conventional baby. She won’t sit to be read to. She won’t sit to watch TV. She won’t even sit to eat unless strapped in her high chair.
She is a foot soldier, always on the go, moving here and there, racing, running, falling, picking herself up and dusting herself off, no time for tears no matter how big the bruise, because she is on a mission.
There are chairs to be climbed, stairs to be scaled, more rooms to be pillaged, and so many tables and flat surfaces to be danced on, (Charlotte’s favorite song? "I’ve got a pocketful, a pocketful of sunshine.")
Charlotte must think that her name is "Charlotte! No!"
"Charlotte, no! Get off the coffee table now!"
"Charlotte, no! Do not put that quarter in your mouth."
"Charlotte, no! Don’t you even think about throwing that ball in the house."
But Charlotte doesn’t even pause at "No" or "Stop!" or "Don't" or "If you do that again..." She keeps on trucking, like a wind-up toy, arms and legs pumping and pumping until she runs into a wall, trips over something, or falls down a step.
Her little friend Abby actually stops running sometimes to see what the older kids are watching on TV or to eat Oreos or to play with a puzzle. Abby will sit down and try to figure out where the puzzle pieces go.
Not Charlotte. She’ll look at a piece, stuff it her mouth, throw it on the floor when it doesn’t fit, try to eat another piece, and when that’s too big, too, she’ll swat the whole puzzle onto the floor then walk away.
She climbs out of her crib. She climbs to the highest rung on the jungle gym. She climbs up the biggest slide and careens down head first, grinning and laughing. She climbs on a balance beam and actually runs.
Sometimes Julie gives Charlotte a time-out. Charlotte sits then in a tiny chair, facing the wall, quiet and still, a good little soldier. But then the minute is up and she’s back on her feet. And it’s "Take your posts!" all over again.
We chase her. We catch her. We scold her. We love her.
Almost 30 years ago, I wrote in my daughter’s baby book, "According to her big sister, Lauren, Julie’s biggest asset is her LOUD, BOOMING voice!"
I do not remember Julie having a loud, booming voice. I remember a sweet, soft-spoken little girl. But these are my words, not just in bold but underlined.
I wonder how, 30 years from now, Julie will remember Charlotte, devil or angel, or a little bit of both?
| I have a granddaughter 14 mths. old who display similar behaviour. Does anyone have any proven ways to solve this problem? Please share. My son, her father, never exhibited this behaviour so I'm not sure how to handle. Please share.
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| I have sympathy for you....I have a 2 yr. old grandson, Colten, who we dearly love, is as cute as a bugs ear, but is just the same as your little Charlotte!
I tell my husband everytime Colten leaves,,,"I know why the good Lord made us able to be Mommies when we are young!" I am only 58, and have 8 other grandchildren, but this little dynamo keeps us running. His Daddy was "an acitve child", but at least he would sit for a few minutes at a time.
We adore this little bundle of energy, and when he stops long enough and says to me "kiss Mama" and puts his chubby little hands on both sides of my face and plants a wet kiss on me,,,,,,,,,I just melt.
We are so blessed to have him in our lives...if we survive!
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| Our lovely little grand daughter who is 2 /12 has been the same way, although calming down a little bit with age.
My husband, "Papa" is always asking me to take the batteries out of her.
Getting her to SIT, well, it has taken patience. We can now sit and read a book and now I'm getting her into games, but it's a challenge. I babysit her 5 days a week.
All you can do, is follow her around, and keep a calm voice. Instead of NO! I've used, "not nice" and "how about this instead?"
Sometimes playing with them, helps, a certain toy, a certain action, just be WITH them. I hope this helps a little with some of you.
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