So I am finding that parenting a two year old is a little trixy. It really makes me smile that every time I reach a new stage I realise that the earlier one wasn't as hard as I thought. I remember saying,
"It will be much easier once she can talk and say what she needs" referring to Mabel when about a year old. Hmm not so much I realise now as she incessantly shouts, "Mummy come here" from the other room with no apparent regard for my answer if it doesn't meet her demand.
Or,
"If she could just move I think she would be happier" when about 6 months. Seriously? When Wilf shows signs of pulling up his little porky legs when on his tummy, even at 4 months, I am one step away from just pushing them gently back down. "No need for that baby, you stay put".
Makes me slightly nervous about what is ahead. At what point doesn't it keep getting harder???
Anyway, our little girl is full of toddler frustration. And I really do appreciate that is must be hard to be that age (said whilst trying really hard not to add a big fat BUT at the end).
She wants her independence but can't have as much as she would like. She wants to put her own shoes on but can't work out why she hasn't managed it (wrong feet normally). She doesn't understand why we have to do lots of planning around her little brother's routines.
And I find that I too become frustrated and that we come to loggerheads over things. Like the fact that yesterday we spend hours exploring the forest (also known as our overgrown garden that you can no longer access), making a puppet show (more about me that one but did involve some good drawing) and reading stories. I then tried to get myself a cup of tea and sit down for a minute only to be greeted with tantrums and general bad behaviour.
I complained to G Kisby,
"She needs to be able to entertain herself better. It just isn't on"
He concurred but rightly questioned,
"What are you expecting our over indulged toddler to say? "You know what you have excelled on the activity front this morning and I have had lots of attention, why don't you take five minutes and I will play nicely here""
And I know that he is right (grrr).
Sometimes I just can't avoid the tantrum, there is nothing I can do and they go on for ages man. At other times, if I could keep up my energy to negotiate / divert / distract, I probably could. Sometimes I wish I could explain more, help her to understand, think through, have more patience. Other times I know she is too young for any of that and just needs to be told.
It is such a strange age since on the one hand she is very funny ("Oh goodness me, not more paint" - said to a stranger in B&Q yesterday alongside adorable manners when chatting to the lady at the till) but on the other exasperating, "I want to get out" screamed as we made a sharp exit from the store when she did not agree with my clear direction on remaining firmly strapped in (I let her walk around the supermarket recently whilst trying to push Wilf and carry a basket. It wasn't my proudest moment. She wrapped me in circles with her 'reins' and her demands whilst I smiled at the passers by who were also questioning my decision. At one point a shop assistant asked if I wanted to enter a competition to win £100 by giving some feedback on the store. I think I literally spat, "Are you kidding me, do I look like I have anything else to give here" at her. She didn't ask again. I felt slightly guilty afterwards. But seriously)
Anyhow, I will continue to try and find the humour and make our days fun (which they largely are to be fair). I find that her attitude can be very much effected by mine (and yes I know I am the adult in the relationship) and a lot of the time a decent tickle or a big fright does a lot to lighten both our moods.
P.s Mother's day gifts were a lovely treat. A Joules gilet from Wilf for our many walks and some old school cookware from Mabel for our shared love of baking. Well done G Kisby.
Makes me slightly nervous about what is ahead. At what point doesn't it keep getting harder???
Anyway, our little girl is full of toddler frustration. And I really do appreciate that is must be hard to be that age (said whilst trying really hard not to add a big fat BUT at the end).
She wants her independence but can't have as much as she would like. She wants to put her own shoes on but can't work out why she hasn't managed it (wrong feet normally). She doesn't understand why we have to do lots of planning around her little brother's routines.
And I find that I too become frustrated and that we come to loggerheads over things. Like the fact that yesterday we spend hours exploring the forest (also known as our overgrown garden that you can no longer access), making a puppet show (more about me that one but did involve some good drawing) and reading stories. I then tried to get myself a cup of tea and sit down for a minute only to be greeted with tantrums and general bad behaviour.
I complained to G Kisby,
"She needs to be able to entertain herself better. It just isn't on"
He concurred but rightly questioned,
"What are you expecting our over indulged toddler to say? "You know what you have excelled on the activity front this morning and I have had lots of attention, why don't you take five minutes and I will play nicely here""
And I know that he is right (grrr).
Sometimes I just can't avoid the tantrum, there is nothing I can do and they go on for ages man. At other times, if I could keep up my energy to negotiate / divert / distract, I probably could. Sometimes I wish I could explain more, help her to understand, think through, have more patience. Other times I know she is too young for any of that and just needs to be told.
It is such a strange age since on the one hand she is very funny ("Oh goodness me, not more paint" - said to a stranger in B&Q yesterday alongside adorable manners when chatting to the lady at the till) but on the other exasperating, "I want to get out" screamed as we made a sharp exit from the store when she did not agree with my clear direction on remaining firmly strapped in (I let her walk around the supermarket recently whilst trying to push Wilf and carry a basket. It wasn't my proudest moment. She wrapped me in circles with her 'reins' and her demands whilst I smiled at the passers by who were also questioning my decision. At one point a shop assistant asked if I wanted to enter a competition to win £100 by giving some feedback on the store. I think I literally spat, "Are you kidding me, do I look like I have anything else to give here" at her. She didn't ask again. I felt slightly guilty afterwards. But seriously)
Anyhow, I will continue to try and find the humour and make our days fun (which they largely are to be fair). I find that her attitude can be very much effected by mine (and yes I know I am the adult in the relationship) and a lot of the time a decent tickle or a big fright does a lot to lighten both our moods.
P.s Mother's day gifts were a lovely treat. A Joules gilet from Wilf for our many walks and some old school cookware from Mabel for our shared love of baking. Well done G Kisby.