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Tough Love

Show me a mother who doesn’t occasionally lose it with her kids and I’ll show you someone who’s mastered the art of deep, deep, inner calm and serenity.  Or a great actress.  In other words, no one I know.

I have, lately, been extremely good on this front.  Having got a bit too shouty with my little angels, I felt some time to reflect on why they behave in the ways they do was necessary.  Actually just to be clear, Tilly is pretty much always a little angel who rarely if ever, in fact, has caused me to lose my temper.  Eliza on the other hand.  Well we all know what toddlers are like, and anyone who reads this blog regularly will attest to her, shall we say, spirited nature.

So back to the point.

Lately everything’s been reasonably peaceful and calm.  Not too many tantrums, nighttime stalling tactics have been diverted, she’s even woken up at the tardy hour of 6.50am the last 2 mornings .  But today, after a very busy day with a very lovely old friend of mine and her two delightful children aged 9 and 4, she was exhausted.  Oh and by the way this lovely old friend has four children ranging in age from 4 to 15 and she’s a wonderfully calm mother (well the bit I see anyway), she’s an inspiration.

Anyway we all know what exhausted means.  Heaven help me and run for the hills.

Which is how I found myself this evening (she went to bed a bit early, being incapable of walking without falling over), having this conversation:

 ”Stroke my hair Mummy!” (this sounds very sweet, but it’s a tactic like ‘I need a poo’ or ‘Milo’s not sleepy’ or ‘I want to watch Mummy’s telly’ we tried that once but she didn’t like Eastenders).

“It’s the dummy or hair stroking baby – which is it to be?”

(I have lately relented and given her back a dummy at bedtime, after a year without it,  an unbelievably stupid move on my part I know, but somehow better than the teethgrinding alternative and the nightmare before bedtime)

“Er, both Mummy.”

“No you don’t get both.  Dummy or hair.”

“Hair” (oh lordy.)

“Actually no dummy”

Result.

“No hair! Mummy!!!”

And then the loss of temper from me,

“Oh for God’s sake just go to sleep it’s bed time!”

Now of course I feel guilty.  Which is why I’m blogging it.  It’s a kind of redemption, seeking some solace from others who might tell me I’m not a terrible mother (crosses fingers hopefully……)?

Let me be clear, if you are of the deep, deep, inner peace and calm school of parenting and if you think my actions despicable, may I ask you politely not to comment?  It’s just I’m a bit too tired to take it on the chin right now. Many thanks.

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