So my last post touched on the changes going on in our little world and my worries about how my little one is coping. I know deep down, fretting isn’t really helping anybody. So today I have slapped on the fake smile, pulled myself together and come to my senses. Only I can make a difference and try to ease these worries.
What bought on this change of heart was my eventful morning. It all started at 6am, with the usual pained cries from my daughters room, ‘mummmmmy open the doooooor’ so in I go all blurry eyed, then ‘noo I want my daddy’, daddy of course is at work, so I know I have to spend half an hour explaining daddy is at work and how he will come back later, but mummy is here now. When all I really want to do is crawl back in bed with a cup of tea and eat an entire packet of biscuits.
Eventually she gives up and mummy will do, we then make our way to the stairs – of which I am trying to make her walk down by herself like a big girl at the moment (which she has been doing happily for the last 5 months by the way) but now that mummy is big and pregnant and won’t carry her down anymore, suddenly she is completely unable and will stand at the top of them shrieking to be carried down. I coax her down eventually keeping as patient as I possibly can even though that biscuit packet is still calling for me.
Then comes the breakfast battle ‘I want this’ no ‘I want that’, ‘my melon is too pink’ ‘the milk on my cereal is too spicy’ (WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!!). Once we’ve found the perfect shade of pink melon and some non spicy milk and fought our way through breakfast, then comes the debate about getting dressed. After lots of patient chat and plenty of distraction we finally get the ‘oh so offensive’ clean clothes on.
Then comes one of my favourite parts of the day – the teeth brushing battle… Mummy sits at the sink doing hers, singing about how lovely it is to have squeaky clean teeth. Moo even kindly helps mummy, jabs me in the throat a few times , I then wash the toothpaste off of my eyebrows and nose and then it’s Moos turn. First it’s a few laps around the kitchen, then it’s a few games of playing limp slippery fish everytime I have hold of her. Then she finally gives in but will sit on the seat with her mouth clamped shut. Such fun!!!
So we’ve made it so far, she is dressed, fed and teeth are clean-ish. Now it’s mummy’s turn to get ready quickly. I know I have about 3 and half minutes in which to do this before she notices I’ve gone. So I set her down with a game to play whilst I dart around like a loony. 4 minutes later, mismatched socks on, greasy hair scraped back, some seriously questionable clashing top and trouser combo on and a bit of concealer spread over my face, because foundation just takes too long, and I’m good to go.
Although this particular morning – nature calls – and when you are 7 months pregnant and nature calls you should jolly well listen or else your little friend constipation will pay you an unwelcome visit and that’s a whole other fun story for you. So there I am door wide open so to prevent a total hissy fit from Moo for daring to have a few minutes privacy. Moo ofcourse isn’t best pleased and decides to come and join me in the loo. I know not to ask her to go and play alone, because I have tried this many times and it’s resulted in mega tantrums. So when I’ve finished and Moo has had a good look I can then begin the ‘final off we go to nursery battle’. Yay.
I coax her into the car with promises of cake. Regardless of my best distraction attempts ‘hey look at that purple scuberdiving goat over there Moo’, she still remembers the mention of cake. So begrudgingly I riffle through the emergency car cake stash and hand it to her. Knowing I only have 3 minutes peace until she asks for more and I have to explain there aren’t anymore and then deal with the consiquences.
We finally get to nursery now covered in cake, and proceed to run around the car park shouting ‘I don’t want to go to nursery’. A pitying teacher finds us and manages to talk Moo into coming in, but the whole time she is clinging to me so tight I can feel her fingernails breaking through my skin. I stay playing at nursery with her for half an hour to try and settle her in. Note to self – DO NOT SIT ON THE FLOOR AT NURSERY – you are then at small child height and they will see this as an invitation to invade your personal space and drive toy cars over your tits and push play food in your mouth. Eventually Moo is distracted enough by a bowl of shaving foam that is randomly sitting on the table labeled dinosaur food, and I take my opportunity to sneak off.
I get back into the car, my eyes fill up with tears, I feel guilty for dashing out and leaving her, I question my reasons for putting her in a nursery at all. I sit there wondering how else I could have coped better this morning and what I must do next time in order to be a better mummy, and eventually I’m in tears.
I send an S.O.S text to the hubby, he calls me with lots of rational advice, and eventually I feel a little better. But seriously where did my little angel go, and who is this little madam who insists on fighting with me over every single little thing!!!???
I remember foolishly saying to my hubby one day, I think we seem to have missed the terrible two’s, she is just such a good girl. Silly smug fool!!! 2 years and 7 months in, it’s hit us BIG TIME. So I have a plan of action,
I’m bored of empty threats to throw her favourite toys in the bin, and talk of the naughty step. It’s time I found a way of reasoning with my determined child, and making some much needed progress on the obedience front.
So I’ve chosen to try something called Good Pot, Naughty Pot. This involves rewards for good girl behaviour. The idea is that you have a bowl of marbles, and two pots, one is the good girl pot, and the other the naughty girl pot. For good behaviour Moo can choose a marble to put in her good girl pot, and when she is naughty we take one away from the good girl pot and into the bad girl pot. If the good girl pot fills up by the end of the day/week – she gets a treat. The treat should be small, but wonderful… for my Moo that would be an ice lolly, or a little barbie costume.
I really hopes this helps us with even a few of our daily battles, and stops me wanting to bribe with cakes and threaten taking toys away, this way I can just use the simple idea of marbles to achieve the same result. Which is teaching my toddler that good behaviour is rewarded and bad behaviour is not.
I will of course update you,
Now pass me that packet of biscuits already!!!