While we are vastly aware of her terror at home, what I didn't realize was that our poor sitter was experiencing equal disdain until I went to pick Taylor up last Friday night. Our sitter tapped me on the shoulder and said, "You're it." As in, it's your turn to deal with the little hellion until I'm forced to see her again on Monday. Crap. Now I'm the mom of the problem child at daycare. I can handle these moments of shear agony when they're confined to our home, but the fact that she is acting out at daycare is not okay. She is the second youngest (with the youngest being a mere three months old) yet she is aggressive with kids who are 2 and 3 years older than her. As she grows, I am learning that this is just a part of her personality - girlfriend is intense when she plays (and has a number of scars already to prove it), but when does it stop being "oh, she's just a baby" and start being "you need to do something about your crazy child." I don't want to miss the transition from her not knowing any better to a lack of good parenting.
My sitter's solution to all of this madness? "You probably need to have another baby." Ha! Yeah, right. The thought of having to deal with Taylor times two makes me seriously reconsider procreation a second time around. Most days I just drink another cup of coffee and wait for this nightmare to end. I mean, there has to come a point when she'll be sweet and loving again, right? Or is that why people choose to have another baby? Are those first few months (when they're unable to move or speak) the only time they're actually enjoyable? But if my memory serves correctly, those months were spent in a sleepless haze of confusion and bloat, and I'm not ready to sign up for all of that again. Not yet anyhow.