Not a baby

Etta is 19 months old tomorrow. In my mind she is clearly a toddler, not a baby. One of my friends argued that she thought Etta could still be considered a baby because:
1) Etta still has some "baby chub" on her arms and such
2) she does not have the words or skills to handle frustrations like another kid having the toy she wants

Reason number 2 is totally true. Totally. But in my mind having a tantrum because you are not getting what you want is very much a toddler trait. And Etta is willful and has those tantrums. I don't remember any tantrums even close to this from  Addie when she was younger. So I still very much learning how to best respond and discipline.

Take today for example:
I worked out at the gym and the girls did fine in childcare except Etta got fussy at the end when it was time to put shoes on. Once I had her out of the room and in my arms she was ok. So I carried her up the large staircase then set her down so she could walk to the car. And all hell broke loose from my adorable child.
[A little background info here. I am trying to get her to walk instead of being carried. Especially since my hips are not great and carrying her makes them worse. Usually I carry her into the gym so we are not super late for the start of their one hour of scheduled childcare. But then I have her walk back to the car after. Sometimes she is totally into it and will even go up the big staircase by herself. But other days...]

I set her down and started walking but she stood still and refused to follow. I walked a few more steps with Addie then stopped to wait for her. She plopped her little butt on the concrete outside the entrance to the gym. [It is in a little covered alleyway (for pedestrians not cars) so is relatively sheltered from the general public and is safe.] And she is wailing. Screaming. Crying. Snot dripping from her nose and puddling on the ground. I tell her she needs to walk. Addie looks at me with concern and asks if we are really going to walk to the car without her. Sweet Addie goes up to her and offers her hand so they can walk together holding hands. Etta screams and pushes her sisters hand away. A few people have come and gone from the gym during this. There is no missing this spectacle and people give looks of sympathy (not always clear if they feel bad for me or for Etta) but politely refrain from giving me parenting tips. Five minutes or so later when Etta's screams have died down some I go up to her and tell her it is time to go to the car. I help her stand up. And she starts running- in the wrong direction- trying to go back into the building. So I pick her up and start walking. Once we get past a driveway I set her down again because she is still screaming and is straining to get out of my arms. She turns around and tries to run away from me and the direction of the car, back towards the driveway and the alley. So obviously for safety reasons at this point she must be carried the whole way. She cried and strained and pushed against me the whole way back to the car. I had an immensely hard time getting her buckled in because she was arching her back and flailing.

Sometimes just the act of us driving will calm her. Once she is in the seat and realized she can not go anywhere but where the car goes, she chills. Not today. Addie was being great and obedient and trying to trouble shoot what was wrong with Etta and really wanting her to hush. And really wanting to go to the park because I told her if it was not raining after gym we could go to a new favorite park so she could get some energy out. I considered just driving home. But then I had a better idea. I drove to the park and got a great spot in the shade right by the swings where Etta could see all the action. I let Addie out of the car and told her I would keep an eye on her from the car and hopefully we would join her soon. Etta had calmed a bit when she saw the park but took up a new wail when she realized Addie was being let out but she was not. I wiped her snotty nose and calmly told her that she could play too once she was calm and done with her fit. I then got back into the drivers seat. Etta was upset to see me sit again and tested out another cry. But when she realized that throwing a fit would not get her time on the swings, she stopped. It was not immediate like a light switch. But she was very aware of the choice she was making.

She ended up having fun at the park and having no lingering traces of the 15 minute tantrum from hell. Like I said though, I am still learning how to deal withe these so welcome advice.

So...
-one cup of coffee spilled on my toddler
-one near-concussion
-one enormous tantrum
it has been an ...eventful... week.