My Baby? Not So Much!

**Kevin as a guest blogger at Sema's and my Mom have posted their third installment of Kevin's story. Take some time to go read their accounts of Kevin's journey.**

Despite the fact that Feisty will be three (3) in May, I still....and probably always will...consider her and call her my baby. I think back on when Care Bear was three and it is hard to believe that my baby is almost there. She is my last (unless the good Lord has other plans for us), so I think it only natural to try to hang onto that "baby-ness" as long as possible. But today, I realized that a baby she is not.


I've mentioned in the past that Feisty is a little O.C.D. Probably not in the clinical sense, but she is definitely a strong-willed, independent child (hence her blog name). She likes things the way she wants them and will not settle for less. But every now and then, she is stubborn enough to hang on to her baby like ways.


For instance: She used to like to go potty and did for awhile, but she changed her mind. Why any child would rather poop in her pants rather than the potty is beyond me...especially after seemingly mastering the latter, but then again....I'm not two. And for awhile there, she also seemed to like to sleep through the night. She changes her mind about that on a regular basis. Back in October, she learned to ride her tricycle but little things such as cold weather and a little blizzard that occurred here and is still hanging around made it impossible for the child to go out and practice her new skill. That saying, "It's like riding a bike...." doesn't apply to a two year old. Trust me.

This past week, we have been enjoying some warmer weather and the kids are coming out of cabin fever and raiding the garage for the bikes. The streets are melted and the sidewalks are well on their way. Feisty, being who she is, could not be left out. She did not let the fact that her brand new tricycle that has yet to be put together is still sitting in a box in our house. She went for her sister's hand-me-down and begged and pleaded with me to "push her" around the street on the trike. Even my pleas of, "But Feisty, I really need to get dinner ready before church tonight" and "it's really not spring yet...it is still only 45 degrees out here" did not deter her. I could not resist and spent the next 45 minutes, back hunched over until I couldn't take it anymore pushing her around the neighborhood. Finally when I determined I was going to permanently resemble the hunch back of Notre-Dame, I convinced her to try to do it herself. At first she was hesitant, but when she started getting that little trike going on her own, there was no going back. Even my attempts at getting her over bumps in the side-walk were unsuccessful. In less than an hour, we went from "Mommy push me!" to "Mommy no help me!" The look of pride on her face and squeals of, "Care Bear! Look at me! I'm riding my bicycle (yes she calls it a bicycle) by myself!" were worth every minute of late dinner. I only wish had a video camera on her.

All I have to say to those teenage boys who roar through our cul-de-sac at break neck speed is, "Watch out this summer! Feisty's on the loose!" A baby no more!