Last Sunday was a nightmare.
Amelia has always been really well behaved. She tidies up after herself, she does what she’s told, she brings me things when I’m being lazy or have Max’s nappy off with poo everywhere and no wetwipes in reaching distance.
I was always the smug one that had the well behaved child at playgroups and out in the street, when others would refuse their fruit and veg and kick and scream, Amelia was 9 times out of 10 the one that would eat up all of the good stuff on her plate because she knew there wouldn’t be any chocolate or crisps if she didn’t and knew that kicking and screaming was bad and would only lead to an angry mummy.
I was always so proud when people would tell me she’s so welk behaved and polite and I was arrogant in believing that my sometimes harsh and firm approach to parenting was the way forward and I had all of the answers.
And then Sunday happened..
I really don’t know what went wrong. She’d been reasonably well behaved all day which wasn’t unusual and had loads of fun doing my workout DVD with me and then flick. That switch just went.
‘Tidy up your toys Amelia, it’s bed time’
‘What did you say?’
‘Amelia, put your Paw Patrol toys back in their box please’
‘Come on, you’re such a good girl for putting away your Paw Patrol toys!’ (I was getting pretty desperate)
I’m sure that foot went down..
‘Do you want a Kinder Egg?’ (Oh no the dreaded bargaining stage)
‘Okay you can have one when you put away your Paw Patrol toys’
‘You’re making mummy angry now!’
Que the screaming fit
Que the angry mummy
Que the angry daddy
Que a lot of screaming and shouting (and not all from Amelia!)
Man that was a hard few hours. Too and from her bed, more yelling and tears.
You see I wanted her to eat her tea that was already made and placed on the table, but still actually pick up her toys without the drama. It was one of those dilemmas and to be perfectly honest I’d had enough. Sometimes being a mum is hard. It’s torture and your heart strings are tugged and tugged until their ripped tight out and you feel like the worst person in the world. Then I just want to give in and give my tiny sobbing baby a big cuddle and to tell her that it’s fine and mummy will tidy up just so she didn’t spend another minute completely breaking her heart.
And another debate begins. I’m fighting my toddler and I’m fighting myself all at the same time and it’s HARD! It’s exhausting!
Parenting got really real then, and it’s been just as bad since! Every day we’ve had the yelling and sending to bed and no’s. So many bloody no’s!!
So I guess that’s about the end of my little rant and I’m keeping everything crossed that this is just a little phase and she gets over it really REALLY soon. Any extra fingers crossed will be really appreciated!! Haha
Needless to say I was glad when bedtime came around!