As a Mummy blogger I reckon I must occasionally blog about tantrums and pooh, sorry. Wonder Girl is rapidly approaching two and as such is perfecting the art of the tantrum. Since she is my third I kinda thought I had tantrums and their management all sewed up. However what I hadn’t reckoned for was my little girl perfecting the best tantrums that the Purple household has ever seen, and she is only just getting started, crap.
She was an incredibly laid back baby and I smiled politely when people told me how lovely she was and how I’d better watch out as she got older because all that might change. Damn, they were right. She is averaging around six major hissy fits per day, with reasons ranging from the classic ‘you can’t put my biscuit back together after I broke it in half drama’ to the frankly disgusting ‘but I wanted to lick every fence between home and the park’.
Yesterday she demonstrated that she is her Mothers daughter when getting over hungry resulted in a terrible drama. Now to digress I am not good with being hungry, it tips me over the edge from neurotic, control freak to crazy bitch from hell, not good. There was once a famous oft referred to episode in the early days of our marriage when Purpledad ended up chasing me round our flat begging me to eat a banana, boy was he regretting ‘I do’.
So she got hungry, and I was unreasonably trying to make her some lunch. This was not what she wanted, she wanted lunch to somehow make it onto the table as I cuddled her in my arms. As the only grown up in the house this was not a possibility. So the bottom lip came out and the screams of indignation began. Followed by a little foot stamping and a fair amount of “noooo Mummy, noooo”, presumably indicating the unfairness of me ignoring her whilst throwing together a cheese sarnie.
Then I wrestled her into her high chair, she ate lunch like her life depended on it (which I suppose in the grand scheme of things it does), then she smiled and my little angel was back in the room. What can I say, it’s hard looking at your daughter and seeing yourself reflected back. Though at 22 months I reckon she can get away with it, me at 30 something, not so much.
Anyway in other news we are all headed on our holidays tomorrow. Visiting relatives and then a mid week break at Centre Parcs, hoorah. For the first time ever I’m going to take a complete blogging break, stats be damned I need some time off and this is the ideal opportunity. So goodbye you lovely lot and see you on the other side of Easter.