Adaline is one now. Her world is just fine unless she is hungry or tired. Then someone takes care of her. No one expects her to be self-sufficient. What does she have to be snotty about? The one-year-old is usually quite content.
In a year, she will be 2. Things will be different then, I think.
Disability came as a surprise for me after my knee replacement surgery a year ago. I expected to hurt and hobble. I didn’t know I would need help with everything, including going to the bathroom and bathing (which Mike insisted I do daily so my incision didn’t get infected). I appreciate my husband’s patient and loving care through those weeks.
I wasn’t always gracious. My inner two-year-old raged and cried and temper-tantrumed more than a few times.
I couldn’t put on a pair of pants by myself because my knee wouldn’t bend.
“Let me help.” “I do it.”
I had to use a walker to get to the bathroom and then I had trouble standing up.
“Let me help.” “I do it.”
I couldn’t stand up long enough to fix anything to eat.
“Let me help.” “I do it.”
I will be sympathetic when Adaline says “I do it“, even if she can’t.
My knee is functioning well. I am grateful daily for what I am able to do on my own.
I can take my own showers and go to the bathroom alone and even put on my pants easily. Maybe one day that won’t be the case. I do wonder if I should have long-term-care insurance.
Today, just for today, I did what I wanted. My inner two-year-old is very grateful.
Amma Ponders 
Robin I say let the terrible two’s rip……….”I do it”
I think maybe that’s how you live to be in your 90’s! Never give up.
I never give up. Has to be the Dorko in me……
No comment.
My eternal struggle between doing it myself and accepting help gracefully and gratefully, when needed. I think one of my mantras is “I do it!”
Do you think that’s why we have trouble with Let Go and Let God?
For sure!
I’ll never forget the meltdown that my granddaughter had one day when she was two. She wanted to put her own pants on, but she kept getting both legs in the same hole. She kicked and screamed, but eventually, she put on her pants. So at least you didn’t kick and scream–did you?
Kinda sorta.