This morning as I took a few minutes out to have a cup of tea at the kitchen table, I could see Tilly taking a packet of opened spaghetti from the cupboard (really must sort out some child locks), I was just a few seconds too late in reaching her and in truth I wasn't really that bothered. The spaghetti ended up on the floor of course, at the same time as Eliza walked in.
"Can we snap it all up Mummy?"
"Er, no we need to tidy it up."
"But I want to snap it."
"Well we're not going to."
Cue sulking, stroppy child who exits the kitchen trying very hard to cry but managing a sort of strangled whimper.
I was just fetching the dustpan and brush when I noticed my littlest girl sitting down and quite patiently attempting to put all the spaghetti back in its packet. A sort of kerplunk to the power of ten. She was so focussed I was loathe to interfere so I sat down next to her, held the packet open and together we put it all back. I must add here that since I have been up since 6am I had in fact cleaned the kitchen floor.
Eliza stropped back in and was most put out the spaghetti had been put away, so she stropped off again.
Now I'm not making unfair comparisons, I'm just observing the difference between their characters. That isn't to say that Tilly is perfect. In fact as I sit opposite her at the table typing whilst she eats her Weetabix, she has just tipped up the bowl and decorated the table with milk. Serves me right I suppose for not paying attention.
Must go, Weetabix has a nasty tendency to turn to cement unless you get it while it's wet.
Post script: Eliza just came in and asked if she could have her breakfast on the naughty step. I was so surprised I said yes and she promptly walked off into the living room.
"That's not the naughty step."
She stopped and turned to look at me with an expression far more befitting of a sixteen year old, I could have sworn she rolled her eyes at me.
Oh well. Another day on the roller coaster learning curve I guess.
"Can we snap it all up Mummy?"
"Er, no we need to tidy it up."
"But I want to snap it."
"Well we're not going to."
Cue sulking, stroppy child who exits the kitchen trying very hard to cry but managing a sort of strangled whimper.
I was just fetching the dustpan and brush when I noticed my littlest girl sitting down and quite patiently attempting to put all the spaghetti back in its packet. A sort of kerplunk to the power of ten. She was so focussed I was loathe to interfere so I sat down next to her, held the packet open and together we put it all back. I must add here that since I have been up since 6am I had in fact cleaned the kitchen floor.
Eliza stropped back in and was most put out the spaghetti had been put away, so she stropped off again.
Now I'm not making unfair comparisons, I'm just observing the difference between their characters. That isn't to say that Tilly is perfect. In fact as I sit opposite her at the table typing whilst she eats her Weetabix, she has just tipped up the bowl and decorated the table with milk. Serves me right I suppose for not paying attention.
Must go, Weetabix has a nasty tendency to turn to cement unless you get it while it's wet.
Post script: Eliza just came in and asked if she could have her breakfast on the naughty step. I was so surprised I said yes and she promptly walked off into the living room.
"That's not the naughty step."
She stopped and turned to look at me with an expression far more befitting of a sixteen year old, I could have sworn she rolled her eyes at me.
Oh well. Another day on the roller coaster learning curve I guess.
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