Good grief is it really only Wednesday? ONLY WEDNESDAY? Is it actually Wednesday 1st October 2015? Has a whole year gone by – because it feels like it has. I am tired to the tips of my toes, my sinuses feel like they are filled with concrete and after a day sat under a malfunctioning light at work (now fixed, BIG UP FACILITIES LIGHT MAN you friendly cheeky chap who always comes to save the day) FLICKER ON FLICKER OFF I WISH I WAS A 90s DISCO LIGHT FLICKER ON, I have a headache that is hanging on for dear life like a monkey would cling to the last banana in the world.
I am sure this is the reason for the unholy number of parenting stuff-ups this week. I have repeatedly done that thing where you open your mouth and as you are in the process of saying something realise the extent to which your words are in fact a missile that is already cruising from your mouth, over your shoulder, down your back and heading straight in the direction of your arse where it will bite you viciously and repeatedly whilst you internally scream SHUT UP YOU UTTER UTTER IDIOT in the full knowledge that the words are already out there and there is no taking them back.
In the last 24 hours…
‘Do you know whose Birthday it is today Blake?’
‘IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!’
‘Well no, it’s your Birthday in a month. Today is it Tyde’s Birthday.’
‘NO IT ISN’T! IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!’
‘Well, it’s nearly your Birthday…’
‘And today it is my PARTY’ *you know about parties?!*
‘Um… Well today is a nursery day!’
‘I WANT MY PARTY MUMMY’ *oh piss it, you’re not even getting a party because we’ve just booked night flights to Singapore 2 weeks after your Birthday HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER TODDLER ON A NIGHT FLIGHT BAH HA HA HELP ME*
‘Do you like cake Blake?’
‘I WANT CAKE MUMMY’
‘Oh… I don’t actually have any cake’ *meltdown*
‘Right then, is it bedtime?’ *why did you make that negotiable you donkey?*
‘No Mummy.’ *meltdown*
‘Ok Blake, it’s time to change your nappy! Do you want to hear your options for where we can change it?’ *stop asking questions!!*
‘No I’m too busy.’
‘We can use your changing mat or you can lie on the floor?’
Blake runs around shouting ‘I did do a little trumpy’ and screams with laughter. *nice reinforcement*
Car cuts me up on drive home
‘Oh you dildo!’
*from backseat* ‘DILDO!’ *sigh*
There is a fundamental block in my brain, that I would like to blame on tiredness or busyness or stress or anything really but is actually just a fundamental part of idiot me, that prevents me from thinking before I speak.
All of the above scenarios could have been so easily avoided:
1. Don’t give your toddler room to negotiate when you want them to do something
2. Don’t swear in front of them
3. Don’t offer them up a gift wrapped opportunity to think it’s their Birthday, or that cake is available
4. Don’t laugh at farts
I’d really like to think that somewhere along the line I’ll learn WISDOM and stop walking into these scenarios head first with open arms. But let’s be honest – we’re nearly three years in now so it’s looking unlikely.
Happy Birthday Pa! X
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