Mummy and toddler Friday. The fifth day of the week. To me, that was the fifth day of endless whinging, tugging at my pyjama top with such force that my boob popped out, body-stiffening-head-thrown-back-tantrum-having and food throwing. I am of course talking about my toddler, who this week has been IMPOSSIBLE to please.

His objections have included, but are not limited to;

  • Reaching the third verse – or my third verse of, ‘If You’re Happy and You Know It’ (does anyone sing that song in the same order?!). Anyway, apparently touching your nose is NOT something you do if you’re happy and you know it. It’s something you do if you’re utterly grumpy and want to cry hysterically.
  • Throwing himself on the floor in Ernest Jones because I wouldn’t let him run out of the shop. For once I was thankful I wasn’t in there to pick myself a 2 carat diamond because I don’t imagine that selecting expensive finger-ware would have the same effect to the soundtrack of screaming.
  • Because when we went for a walk, he didn’t want to walk. I picked him up, he didn’t want to be carried. I put him down, he didn’t want to walk. I picked him up, and he didn’t want to be carried. So I put him in the car and he wasn’t all that happy about that either.

I’m all about picking your battles in parenting because I feel if I oppose everything that’s mildly irritating I’d never be able to follow through with everything and so how is he to know when no really means no? In other words, I want my child to take me seriously. Which evidently he doesn’t as when I tell him not to do something, even in my most stern tone (must work on that) he laughs in my face and goes right back to doing said thing anyway and the whole cycle is repeated. What does one do in that situation?!  Answers on a postcard.

I really am confused in this area. My pre-parent self – who I know think was a total kn*b – always wondered how people were so lacks in the discipline department that they ended up on Supernanny. Now I fear that it all started with their thirteen-month-old laughing at them when they were told not to climb on the fireplace. What actually do I do?!

Thankfully after a testing week where ‘FFS’ was said in my head, or under my breath (and I NEVER drop the F-bomb) countless times, he’s been a dream this weekend. His usual happy, funny self AND he seemed to understand that he’s not allowed to walk in the street without holding my hand. Definite progress.  And so hopefully last week was a phase? TELL ME IT WAS A PHASE?! I’m sure the experienced parents among you are also going to tell me that there will soon be a similar phase and so I don’t mind if you lie to me, or alternatively share a funny story? Lets make light of toddler-logic together.

 

My Petit Canard

 

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