There are days with children when it feels like you’re staring in your very own Ground Hog Day film, nothing you do is right, even if you do everything they ask….
It started as a seemingly bright and perfectly pleasant day, I wasn’t working, I was spending the day with my babies hanging out, we had Houdini’s last ever toddler session then an afternoon in the garden whilst I got jobs done, what could possibly go wrong…
7am I’m awoken to the dulcet sounds of a three year old whaling, shortly followed by an 19 month old squeaky crying. Then stair gates banging against doors as one escapes and the other screams louder protesting she can’t follow suit. I get up, try to dissuade this reasonless melt down so early in the day from Houdini, if he stops she’ll stop. He doesn’t stop….
By 9.30am the world has ended many many times for no good reason at all. Here is the ridiculous list of reasons my child had cried before 9.30am that day:
He wants to go downstairs.
He wants Daddy to be downstairs. (Daddy is at work already)
He wants to watch Paw Patrol. (Who doesn’t – oh that’s right me..)
He wants to watch Paw Patrol on the TV not on the iPad. (because god forbid I lie in bed pretending it still counts as a lie-in if you have your eyes closed and you’re lying down even though you have a 19 month old sat on your head whilst hearing “no job is too big, no pup is too small” loudly playing out from the iPad)
He wants a Jam sandwich for breakfast. (I oblige, I’m too tired to argue)
He doesn’t want a jam sandwich for breakfast. (I despair, and hand the sandwich to his sister)
He wants lunch not breakfast. (I ask what he would like for lunch)
He wants a Jam sandwich for his lunch at breakfast. (said jam sandwich I’ve just given to his sister when he said he didn’t want it)
His Sister is eating his jam sandwich. (of course he only wants that one a new one will not do, and she knows it is winding him up so she also only wants that one!)
His milk is too warm. (O.K I’ll pop some cold in…)
His milk is too cold. (O.K I’ll heat it up a tiny amount in the microwave)
His milk is too hot. (He’s fucking goldilocks it seems when it comes to milk, however even baby bears milk wasn’t right, and she had an utter melt down when he tried her milk.)
He doesn’t want shorts on. (It’s hot but O.K wear trousers for an easy life)
He wants shorts on. (But of course he does now we’re all dressed and ready to go)
He wants a label, It’s not the right label I’ve given him. (I’m losing the will to go on and even try to leave the house at this point, but I solider on)
It’s too sunny. (Bear with whilst I dial up mother nature and see if she can’t swivel the dimmer switch on the sun down a touch…)
It’s chilly. (Goes without saying, often an issue on the hottest day of the year so far)
The car is dirty (What the actual fuck how is this an issue for him?).
He doesn’t want to go to the last toddler group ever. (Its still only 9.15am and we still haven’t left the house, at this point I’m considering shutting the door and giving up on today)
He hates me. (Goes without saying I’m a witch that has provided the wrong temperature milk, forced him to wear shorts against his will, made the wrong breakfast and lunch, hidden his Daddy and made him watch Paw Patol on an inadequate small screen, what’s not to hate!)
He hates Miss Penny. (Well she did eat his breakfast/lunch & wouldn’t share her perfect temperature milk with him)
Oh but FYI Daddy still fucking rocks, Daddy who’s lucky enough to be at work not dealing with 48 fucking melt downs before 9.30am!!!!
Sadly the day didn’t improve much. There was a brief reprieve for me at toddlers. I managed a few swigs of hot coffee; the crying stopped for a few hours with the distraction of other children and brilliant toys we don’t have at home were on offer. He even raised a smile (making it clear this was for Daddy only) to have a photo taken with his leaving certificate.
However the caterwauling ensued post toddlers because:
I was walking too fast. (Because I’m superwoman and whilst laden down with two bags and a 19 month old I walk at super speed!)
Because I couldn’t carry him, our bags and his sister to the car. (Again I’m super woman, I could manage this and am purely making him walk to spite him, oh and I adore the sound of his whaling so very much)
Because his book was flappy. (Flappy books, a common problem for three year olds since the dawn of time it seems, can someone please let me know how you make a book less flappy!!??)
Because his sticker wasn’t very sticky. (That can tend to happen when you have stuck a sticker and peeled a sticker off most parts of your body since you received it ten minutes ago, but wait whilst I find my sticker restickying glue in my Mary Poppins bag of tricks)
Because he couldn’t have the label on Miss Penny’s leggings (That she’s f-ing wearing).
Because we weren’t going through the car wash (Where this obsession with our car being clean has come from I don’t know!).
Because I let him on the trampoline. (Again what a witch of a woman I am letting him have fun and all that)
Because I wouldn’t make his sister go on the trampoline against her will to get whip lash for his amusement. (I forgot she is around purely for his own amusement and her wishes mean nothing!)
Because I wouldn’t fill the sink in the downstairs toilet with water for him to clean the gravel from the garden. (Because who doesn’t want a sink full of gravel to tidy up at the end of a challenging day?)
And the crying only stopped when he “accidentally” removed tiles from the wall in the downstairs toilet; by hammering the wall so hard with his fist he dislodged them. (In protest for me not allowing him to wash gravel). Whilst I don’t really like the tiles I liked them a shit load more of the wall than I do in my three year olds grubby mitts!!!
Days like these make me realise I have definitely not missed my calling in life as a childcare professional. Head in hands I sat and thought please let tomorrow be better??? As Scarlett O’Hara said ‘After all tomorrow is another day’. To be fair there was a high chance it would be, I was going to work, Granny is in charge and they behave for her!
Header Image credit to Anna See, annasee.com – just to confirm I haven’t been paid to use the image, or talk about the beautiful prints Anna See produces. In fact I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t know who the hell you were talking about if you mentioned this name drop 😉 I just really like typographic their prints and Gone With The Wind is my all time favourite film – I got hooked by the epic costumes at about 7 and never looked back… rambling now!