Sometimes Kids Are Dicks

This funny, beautiful, happy child is also sometimes the devil.

Like this morning before I turned up at my friends house in floods of tears, when I should of been smiling as we we’re just about to book a weekend away with the kids for £9.50 each! (Sun holidays, booking open, don’t miss out I’ll add the codes to the blog after this post) but before all of that, my 2 year old reduced me to tears. It doesn’t happen often but when it does it’s always the same, she kicks off and cries and I cry about her crying.

This morning, she woke up later than usual, she was unusually tired yesterday so I assumed she needed the extra sleep. I woke her up and we went down stairs for our milk/tea fix, same as always. Ciara can be very lazy, she will avoid walking up or down the stairs if she can, and when Daddy’s home she usually can, but my illness means some days I physically can’t lift her, today is that day.

So that was the first tantrum, which ended in me giving in, lifting her onto my lap and sliding down on my ass. 🙄 Number 2 was her not wanting her nappy off.

Number 3 was her point blank refusing to be wiped and have clean pants on.

Before we hit number 4 of actually pulling her pants up over her thighs, she pissed all over my hand.

Number 4 was another meltdown about the wipes (even though she was covered in piss)

Number 5 was not wanting her boots on.

Before number 6 (Which was about her coat) I had lost my patience and really told her off. She still carried on making a fuss. I put her on the naughty step where she usually calms down. But she just got up and carried on screaming at me like I’m some kind of monster with 6 heads.

By the time we got to school (late) she was hysterical and I thought I was about to malfunction and my head was going to physically explode.

She wouldn’t walk into class.

She wouldn’t carry her lunch.

She wouldn’t kiss me goodbye.

I left in tears and by the time I turned up at poor old Mrs Bowler’s I was a mess.

This is another reason you need mum friends when you’re a mum.

Just listening to my pal tell me she’s been there and sometimes kids ARE dicks. Turned my tears into laughter.

I still feel horrendous for shouting and leaving her without a reciprocal kiss goodbye, I’m still counting down the minutes until I can pick her up and hope she’s in a better mood, and smother her in snogs, but I don’t feel so alone with my thoughts anymore.

We righted the world based on how good and in my case badly behaved our kids can be. We then booked a weekend away that includes said shittily behaved kids, and vowed to console each other when they undoubtedly push our proverbial buttons that weekend.

If I hadn’t had that conversation this morning I may have come home and curled up in bed and cried more unnecessary tears. I might of still been feeling irrationally upset by the time I arrived to pick Ciara up.

Now though, I’m enjoying a cuppa, I’ve done my (budget) food shop and I’m ready to tackle whatever mood she comes home in. Because she is 2 and a half and I’m her mum. I can do this. And it’s ok to lose my shit occasionally and it’s ok to dislike your child’s behaviour. It doesn’t mean you don’t love them with every breath you breathe. It just means some days you need to be able to breath a little deeper before you can boss it.