When Ellie was born I expected her to go through different phases as she grew up. For example, the phase as she learned to talk where “No” was her favorite word. This wasn’t as bad as I had expected, probably because we thought it was kind of funny when she would yell “NOOO TANKYOU!” or “STOP IT!” at us. And I fully expect that at some point I’ll probably be the meanest person she knows and I won’t understand anything. And I’ll take that as a sign of being a good parent.

A phase I didn’t expect for some reason is the “Ellie do it!” phase which she seems to be in now. She wants to do everything. It doesn’t matter that the 40lb bag of softner salt weighs more than she does and she can barely drag across the floor it much less get it over the baby gate and carry it downstairs. If you say you’re taking it downstairs she screams “ELLIE DO IT!” and throws a fit when you pick it up after she’s spent three minutes pulling at it and has moved it half an inch. It also doesn’t seem to matter that there are some things that she really can’t do. If I tell her I’m going to the bathroom she yells “ELLIE DO IT! ELLIE COME TOO” and ends up lying on the floor crying outside the door when I don’t let her come with. I think my favorite times, though, are when she really is able to at least think she’s helping. For example, when Janette gets home from work and changes her clothes Ellie “helps” by lifting Janette’s legs up out of her pants. For some reason I don’t seem to rank high enough to get that help.

I’m sure some day I’ll be glad that Ellie is independent, and assertive, and likes to help. Until then I’ll just keep reminding myself that she means well, and that’s nice.