The Toddler in Me.

Anne Lamott says, "Sometimes I act just as juvenile as I ever did, but as I get older, I do it for shorter periods of time. I find my way back to the path sooner."

Last night I felt very intensely inside of me the presence of my toddler self. Four-year-old Lisa, upset for no good reason, crossed her arms, glowered and threatened to throw a full-fledged tantrum. I felt the will of that stubborn child pressing on me, wanting so badly to make scene. A truly toddler-worthy scene in which I arch my back and make ugly screaming sounds before bursting into tears. I could feel it welling up inside of me. Emphasis on the feel. Oh goodness.

I used to say, "That bothers me!" in a voice that makes parents cringe. I remember feeling so uncomfortable in my own skin. And not in that metaphorical, insecure way, but in a very physical, trapped sort of way. That sensation still jumps on me out of the blue on troublesome days. And I have to swallow a few times and remember to breathe.

So, last night. :) Toddler Lisa woke up and she was angry. I sat in the blue armchair in my front room, forcing down that rising tantrum feeling. Thankfully, as I wavered on the edge of scene-making, grown-up Lisa appeared and said that it was time for bed. Let me tell you, the toddler was not happy about it. But I think I've grown stronger as I've grown older, or at least learned how to better manage my stubborn strength. Grown-up Lisa's quiet logic that things would look better in the morning won out over Toddler Lisa's fussing and so to bed I went.

And in the morning? Things looked better.