Thursday, 10 January 2013
When the terrible twos are mentioned, people dont comprehend the actually day to day hatefulness of it all. Take today for example, so I decided to be stricter on my boys this week as they got away with blue murder over Christmas. With so many visitors, I didn't want to continually look the demon mum so I put my public mummy persona on as much as I could.
So I asked my toddler to go and get some pants from his drawer. We live in a bungalow and it is the bottom drawer. He goes into the hallway and I am impressed. A few seconds later, I walk out, he hasn't got past the book shelves. He is sitting, pantless, on the floor, reading! I say 'Ok, go and get your pants from your drawer'. He looked at me with distain and continues to read. I take a large deep breath 'You need to go and get your pants or we cannot go out'. Again, he glares at me and looks down at his book. Ok, so now I get physical. I know that a lot of mums have more patience and 'talk to their child' or use 'alternative methods' but I am just not that mum. I am impatient in most things in life and unfortunately motherhood has not been much different.
I take his hand, haul him up and walk him to his room. 'Now' I say 'can you please get pants from your drawer' (pointing at it). He looks up at me, lips pursed and his cheeks are getting a little redder. This is when I know its the start of something big. As I actually have to go out to the school I know I need to deal with this.
'Right, I am going to count to 3 if you haven't got pants, I am closing the door and you can stay in your room' Needless to say, I am back in the living room with a toddler screaming in his room. My littlest one is so used to me now she doesn't even fizzle. I am breathing and trying not to listen to the incessant cries of stubborness coming from his bedroom. I go back in 5 mins (which is probably 45 seconds in reality) and repeat my statement. Again, I am back in the living room with the din of snotty sniffs and tearless crying. The third & fourth times, I wont bore you with.
Then, of course, you get the 'rage'. You know the one. Realistically, if you looked at yourself in a outer body experience, you would be ashamed and consider an exorcist (for yourself) all at the same time. He is not wining this one I have screaming in my head. Let him away with an inch, he will take a mile. (seriously he is 2 but it doesn't stop me). I stomp down to the room, I lift my toddler covered in snot who is trying to hug me (this is the most recent tactic from my little one aka CIA manipulation consultant). I march him over to the drawer. I open said drawer. I push him toward it. He is still looking at me with that dead eye stare. He knows I know that he will try and break me but I am determined. I lift his hand into the drawer. He is standing pantless, facing his cupboard with two hands in the drawer, full of pants. His hands are like bricks, lifeless, just laying on top of all the material. I am repeating over and over again 'get a pair of pants from the drawer', I am like an LP when the needle sticks. I can't believe it but one finger twitches, then a hand glides toward one pair. His brain obviously realising he actually wants spiderman and not those crappy mothercare dinosaurs. He pinches them and he finally LIFTS a pair. I can't believe it. He lifts a pair out of the drawer. I tell him to bring them to the living room and off he skips, bum on display, with a smile on his face!
Seriously 30 mins, this took us. 30 mins which will be my excuse for getting the red wine out as this is not the only trifle I will deal with today. 30 mins for a pair of pants! Some people would say would have not been easier just to get them yourself but with little ones you will never win the war but this little battle was my victory!