It seems some weeks that parenting a toddler is just an endless series of battles. Some you win, and some you lose.

Often times they are battles of will. Toddlers are learning to express themselves, and in so doing you get their exhortations and demands for what they want. Lately around here we are teaching “please”. Stinkerbelle has become quite vocal in expressing what she wants, usually by repeating “More! More! More!” at a very high volume and signing it like mad. She will repeat it with escalating urgency and volume until you acknowledge her. She knows how to say please, and has done for a year or so, thanks to sign language. But she is learning, as we often shush her and tell her to do, that saying “please” will get things done MUCH faster. She seems to think this is good. This is a battle we are winning. And everybody is happy.

One we are sort of holding our ground on is a battle over eating. That Baby STILL has issues with textures and chewing, and so we’re still feeding her the mushy stuff. (Hey, you find yourself waking up one day with a mouth FULL of teeth, and tell me how you get on.) But she is learning to crunch and tear and chew, which is great progress. She still hasn’t figured out that if she just keeps it in her mouth and swallows… VOILA! Eating! But that will come. On the losing front, though, is that she has a remarkable capacity for holding a mouthful of food in her mouth. She can talk and sing and breathe around this mouthful FOR. FREAKING. EVER. And it drives me to distraction. Mealtimes, consequently, can take an hour or more. We win some food battles, and we lose some. But in the end, the whole eating thing will work out just fine, so it’s best not to stress it.

A battle that we are losing is the naptime battle. That Baby still does not nap longer than 45 minutes most days, after many, many months of a good 2-hour nap in the afternoons. (Except today. 2 hours! I am SO happy!) She’s going on fumes some days, she is so tired, but since the start of February her napping has been all off. And it’s making me not a nice person. I am not having my best mommy days when that child wakes, inconsolable, after 45 minutes — and to be honest, they’re not her best days either. I am NOT willing to just surrender napping. She is too young. So we will just have to keep working on it. Warmer weather will help, because as it gets warmer, we can go outside and she will be able to run and play and tire herself out before naptime rolls around.

Other battles are just disappearing of their own accord, which is nice. We will not have a battle over weaning from a bottle, because That Baby is cool with sippies and cups — but it won’t be an issue until we figure out the eating thing and I can be sure she’s full throughout the day. We also are finding we are able to go back to the grocery store with the crazy checkout ladies because now that Stinkerbelle is older, heavier and less snuggleable and less baby-like, they seem less interested in carrying her off. The main culprits can’t even remember her name, which is most excellent news. And the ones who are respectful of not freaking her mom out are still loving up That Baby while leaving her in her stroller or shopping cart, which I wholeheartedly endorse. And a lot of battles, over getting out of the stroller and walking, or wanting to go on the swings or whatever, are going by the wayside because Stinkerbelle’s comprehension of what we’re saying is increasing by leaps and bounds, so all we have to do is talk to her and she understands and is fine with it. I know that won’t always be the way, but being able to communicate, rather than being frustrated, is something we both are enjoying.

As That Baby grows, into the Terrible Twos and Tumultuous Threes, we’re soon going to learn how to pick our battles and learn some ways to cope with the tantrums and willfulness and needs for independence. They’re going to be battles of a different sort, I am sure, and some will be won and some lost. But right now at least, we’re winning enough on each side that both parties are happy most of the time, and so hopefully we’ll remember that as we carry on.

When things are good, they are really good:

• The week began with the Olympic hockey gold. The week started on an optimistic note.

• We have had above-zero weather, sunny and warmish, so I have taken That Baby out for a walk in the stroller in the mornings, and it has been WONDERFUL. Our first walks of the year! Not only do we get outside in the sunshine and fresh air, but I also get my exercise done for my 100 Day Challenge in the morning and that means any free time for the rest of the day is MINE. Plus, That Baby gets outside, which she loves to do. So everybody wins. (Do you KNOW what I did with my FREE TIME last night? I KNIT. AND I watched M*A*S*H. It was bliss on a sofa, I tell you what.)

• Stinkerbelle has met a couple of kids on our street this week, and it has given her some playtime. Not much, but enough that she is playing with other kids and running around outside and having some fun. And that is important to me, because I want her to find some little friends.

• We have been walking for about 90 minutes, which has equalled around 6 km. Sometimes, like today, it means we can also run an errand or two — and today it was a walk to the department store for some yarn. Where I got one big skien for half price since the wrapper was missing, and they also had bags of bulk skiens from the mill that was ON SALE. So HUZZAH!

• I worked on getting Stinkerbelle back on nap schedule. Starting last Friday, she was napping for a full 1 1/2 to 2 hours everyday again (when we are at home, and not in the car). HUGE good thing for me.

But when they are bad, they kinda suck:

• My car is going to need repairs. The fan belt is making a racket. And now, from the rumblings emitting from it on Monday, it sounds like it’ll need a new muffler or somesuch. And let’s not even mention the air conditioning, which STILL needs fixing.

• Both Stinkerbelle and I started the week with some intestinal fiery death. ‘Nuff said.

• I have come to the conclusion, from the continual headaches, that it’s time to bite the bullet and get a new prescription and some new glasses.

• That Baby woke with a wail after 45 minutes of nap today. I am sad and crabby about this.

Meh. It is probably a good sign for me NOT to play the lottery this week.

I hate February.

Everyone has times in the year that are not their best times. Some people wilt in the heat of summer. Others hate September because they don’t want summer to end and dread going back to school. Me? I hate November and February.

(I have a hate on for August, too. But that is something entirely different, and personal.)

November is rainy and cold and dreary. I don’t enjoy the damp and the cold and the endless overcast days of November, but I can tolerate it. But February? February is much the same, but amped up. February is dark, and buried in snow, and way, way too cold.

I feel depressed in February. I hate the cold, and always have. I have absolutely NO interest in winter sports, except for maybe cross country skiing, and it has been 20 years since I have tried that. I do not skate, I think downhill skiing is a fancy name for “death wish”, and I think snowmobiles are silly (why not just DRIVE in heated comfort?) I do not enjoy being cold. I do not find winter air “bracing” or “exhilarating” or “refreshing” or any of those other stupid adjectives that mean “arse-freezing cold”. I feel housebound, and the inertia gets to me, and I am cranky. I hate feeling that I am trapped indoors. I can occasionally get outside and shovel the driveway or something if the weather is calm and snowy. But for the most part, I am trapped.

I am learning that this feeling is worse with a toddler. She LOVES to go outside, but she is too little to do much except walk up and down the sidewalk. And she gets cold so fast, and her little cheeks get chapped. She doesn’t seem to mind, but I do. She is still a little too young to tell me that she is cold, so I limit her outdoors time. I am grateful for calm days, because then we can get out for a bit, but if there is a wind chill, here in the wind tunnel of tree-denuded suburbia, we stay indoors for all but a short time.

She’s too young to play WITH, for the most part. She is not at an age where she grasps organized play yet, so it’s mostly about flitting from activity to activity and trying to engage with her. But she, like all toddlers, has the attention span of a gnat or a soap dish or a stick of gum — approximately 15 seconds. And I run out of ideas after awhile.

So here we are, the two of us. We’re stuck indoors and are getting a little stir crazy.

I considered buying a sled the other day, and bundling her up, and the two of us heading off into the woods on walks. I’d get my exercise, we’d be sheltered from the wind, and she’d get some outside time. This is something I will have to consider for next winter — scouting out our local conservation areas, buying a decent sled, and planning some walks. The only wrinkle will be what to do about diaper changes, or potty breaks, if we are there yet.

Mercifully, February is more than half over. March is around the corner, and with March will come sunshine, and clearing sidewalks, and some chances to get outside with the stroller and walk again. We can turn off the TV and the radio and the computer, and go OUTSIDE. Spring will be just around the corner. I can take That Baby outside and not worry that the wind will chap her little face, or that her fingers will get too cold. It will be wet and slushy and mucky, but that is okay by me. Muddy clothes can be washed.

And, next winter, she will be a little older. Playing indoors will be a whole different ball game. Or, she will be able to go outside and do more things and tell me if she is cold. So that’s something that will make it a little easier to get through the winter.

In the meantime, we will try our best to get through the rest of February without going completely squirrelly.