if I could save time in a bottle

Yesterday I'd heard over the monitor that Cassidy had woken from her nap, so I went in her room to get her.  
"Hey, cookie!! You ready to get up?"
"No!"
"No?  Are you sure you don't want to go downstairs?"
"No!"
Hm.  This was new.  "Alright, then I'll come back in a few minutes."


I went down the stairs, expecting her to protest, but she didn't.  I dawdled in the kitchen for ten minutes, pondering this new word she's recently discovered.  When I went back upstairs, I found her snuggling in her bed, amusing herself with Teddy Spaghetti and a frog bath toy she's been carrying around.
"Heyyyy!!! You ready for some lunch?  You wanna go downstairs with Mommy?"
"No!"
"No?  Are you SURE?"
She made no move to get up.
I sighed.  "Alright then... I'll leave you to it!"


I'd been dreading this, knowing it was coming.  She's been practicing yes's and no's, nodding and shaking her head, testing them out.  I first noticed a couple weeks ago during our bedtime routine when we talk about what we did that day.  "And then we went to the farm and saw the baby goats, remember?"  I watch the wheels turn and she smiles and nods.  Or, "I think it's time to change that diaper!"  Shaking of the head.  "No! No! No!" ... and that damn game of chasing her around the house to get her pants down and wipe her butt, and the fun of her writhing like it's a game while I try to hold her down.


Oh, where has my baby gone?


I went upstairs a third time.  There she was, content as can be.  "You wanna get up and go downstairs now?"
"No!"
"You don't want to come downstairs and have some lunch?  Then you can have a bub?"


That was it.  The bub did it.  My husband's word for bottle.  Her eyes lit and she pulled herself up for me to get her.


Though I did have some grief understanding the change that's coming, I also had a spark of pride when I left the room that first time, and secretly celebrated her growing independence and self construction.


There are worse ways to encounter "no," and believe me, I know they're coming.  And so departs the spirit of my ever agreeable, easily re-directed, sweet little baby girl.  Here come the no's and the tests and the need for firm limits and boundaries.  


Welcome the spirit of my independent, ever growing, funny little girl.  Sorry in advance for all the times I piss you off for not getting what you want.  And I forgive you in advance for your wailing and tantrums.


Somehow I feel like raising my fist and yelling out, "Let the games begin!"
Phew.