Miz Independent

Sophie's newest word is "mahsewf!" She says it quite often, too, because her latest hobby is to insist upon doing everything herself. And when I say everything, I really do mean everything. Every. Single. Thing.

Some of these things I can handle, even if they do take a bit longer. Things like putting on her shoes or pants, getting clothes out of the dryer, wiping her own bottom when she is changed, and getting herself a spoon to eat with. These things are not life threatening, and if I have the time, she can do it herself.

I can even handle it when she tries to forage for food herself. The other day she wanted some juice. Unfortunately, the juice she found was in the garbage can so she was unsuccesful in filling any of the cups she found in the cupboard.


She often tries to get her own milk, but in the end usually allows me to help her. This includes climbing up to the microwave, putting the cup in, and pushing all the right buttons. A few days ago I even found a lot of little bites taken out of the block of cheese in the fridge. The reason I know it was Sophia who did this was because she couldn't open the ziploc baggie, so instead she bit right through it. I'm fairly certain my other children can deal with the zipper, and wouldn't bother eating the plastic if they couldn't.

However, a few of the things Sophie demands to be able to do, I am not so comfortable with. In the last week she has been caught: 1) getting an otter pop out of the freezer (fine), and attempting to open it with a very sharp knife just like Daddy does (not fine). 2) Climbing on a barstool (mostly fine) and then climbing onto the pantry shelves to get herself a treat off the top shelf (not fine). 3) Asking Daddy to scramble an egg for her (fine), but then when he turned his back on the hot stove, climbing up and trying to crack the egg in the very hot frying pan all by herself (not fine).

All of the above potential diasters were averted by yours truly. I am usually alerted to the fact that something is up by the sound of the barstool being dragged across the kitchen floor.

Sometimes I think I should never, ever take my eyes off of this child.