I give up. I really do. My patience level is not at the required level to deal with a pre-terrible two tantrum. God help me when she hits them. I think I may prepare myself a noose. You know, just in case.
The past three hours….
She didnt sleep. At all. She gets up.
She strops and throws herself on the floor. She headbutts a wall. She throws her beaker at the patio door.
She strops some more. I leave her to it and go and make her a nice lunch.
She follows me in the kitchen and giggles at said lunch. She wants it. After all, she hasn’t eaten for a while.
I make it, put it on the table. I try and sit her in her high chair and she strops. She hits. She cries. She will happily try and stand on the bloody table. But strops at the high chair.
She’s chewing her fingers. I give her calpol. She strops and sends the calpol flying. All over me, and all over the floor. Itry and stay calm and speak nicely.
She strops. She cries. I give her calpol. Only by nothing short of a miracle, with the help of a separate calpol spoon so that she give some to herself. I say good girl and give her a kiss, along with something along the lines of “now, that wasn’t hard was it?”. She shakes her head.
I ask her, “are you going to sit in your high chair now and eat some of your yummy lunch?”. She nods her head. I put her in her high chair. She sits comfortably. She giggles. She looks at me as though butter wouldn’t melt. She eats her food.
What a palaver. My nerves are ripped to shreds, and my patience has gone for a walk outside and I’ve not seen it for a while. I hope it comes back, else that noose I was thinking of preparing myself will be on the shopping list sooner than I’d like it to be.