Today has been ‘one of those days’. One of those days that starts at 6am and, despite the fact that it is only currently 3pm, feels like it should now be about midnight. One of those days when you have to really restrain yourself from putting your child outside on the street, complete with a sandwich board around the neck stating, ‘Free to a Good Home’.
Every parent has these days I know, and the ones that say they don’t, are either lying or drunk. But some days it really is harder than others. Of course it doesn’t help that this week I am solo parenting, which is exhausting in itself, and nor does it help that Mr T has suddenly entered a new phase of his little life where things are very often ‘unfair’,(screamed at top of voice for maximum effect), and issues are resolved by banging one’s head on the floor repeatedly, or hitting whatever happens to be in the near vicinity…which, for the latter part of today, has been the poor dog.
We have been pretty lucky to date with Mr T, (for the most part), as he is, whilst hyperactive, quite a placid little boy in his nature. He has never really shown any aggression or anger that would be considered out of the norm for a little person of his age, and has always been quite easy to talk out of, or distract from, a meltdown. However, that being said, I have heard many people say that if you make it through the ‘terrible twos’ relatively unscathed, then you should get prepared for the ‘terrible threes’, as that is when the hurricane will hit, and, whilst I totally don’t want to jinx myself in saying this, I have a sneaky suspicion that this may well be the disaster zone into which we are heading.
So, what am I doing in response to this situation, I hear you ask? Well, I am doing all the things that every mature Mother should. First of all, I have stocked up on wine, vodka and gin, and, secondly, I just resorted to childish measures myself by telling Mr T that today he has been ‘a little poo’!