When your child wakes up at 1 a.m. crying loudly and after you ask her if anything hurts, she starts hysterically screaming “Peppa Pig” on repeat, you know she’s been watching too much TV. Or too little. Or she’s in pain. Or she had a bad dream. Or she just wants to be cuddled. Our she’s a spoiled brat. You don’t know anything, actually. “Peppa Pig” is a horrible answer to almost any question asked in the middle of the night.
Molly got a German flag from a friendly functioning alcoholic in our local McDonald’s which made her pretty happy. And even though she misunderstood me when I told her to wave the flag, she enjoyed waving AT the flag for a couple of minutes nevertheless.
Choose your battles wisely. When your child wants to go out in the rain wearing sandals, you should probably say No. But if she insists on taking the spoon with her on a walk, there’s no need to argue.
We were making art on a rainy morning, using different techniques and materials – markers on paper, playdough on paper, markers on face, playdough on clothes and repeatedly attempted, but nevertheless unsuccessful, playdough on face technique.
Molly was not excited about getting up today. I had to wake her up by lifting the blinds and she just groaned, rolled over and ignored me. The first words she telepathically communicated to me were: “I don’t want to live.”
Ah, Molly. We all have days like these. But those toys are not going to play on their own, you have to step up and face your responsibilities!
Here’s a list of things which Molly found upsetting between 6.45 and 7.45 this morning:
1. I wanted to take her pyjamas off
– crying time: 3 minutes
– distraction: offer her different clothes to wear
2. She didn’t want to wear any of her clothes
– crying time: 5 minutes
– distraction: give her a tub of cream to play with
3. After happily and generously applying cream on her legs and my nose while I got her dressed, it was time to take the cream away
– screaming and crying time: 4 minutes
– distraction: show her something really interesting in the bathroom
4. After “washing” her hands and splashing around in the sink while I got ready, it was time for breakfast, which meant no more playing with water
– proper hysterical meltdown time: 8 minutes, which gave me a chance to prepare breakfast without her hanging around in the kitchen yet I knew by her screams exactly where she was (in the bathroom, next to the sink, for all eight minutes)
– distraction: food
5. She really enjoyed her breakfast even though me giving her blueberries instead of a banana caused some non-committed moaning (45 seconds). But two cereal flakes left in the bowl when I took it away caused…
– crying time: 4 minutes, even after she had both of the flakes
– distraction: our neighbours rang the doorbell to take her to the daycare
6. She was put in the car seat
– moaning time: I have no idea, I closed the car door and left in a hurry
– distraction for mama: a long walk and a nice cup of coffee, followed by a long post on Facebook which I’ll be able to show her in 15 years time.
Three years since Klara moved in!
I can’t even remember life before she arrived and forced her active lifestyle upon us though. We went on at least 2100 walks together so far… And we’re looking forward to many more!
We love you, Klaki Doki.
And you will hopefully soon realise that Molly’s also just expressing her love by pulling your ears and stabbing you repeatedly in the eyes.
11:05 p.m. It’s lovely to listen to Jay and Molly chat and laugh out loud… Less so at 11 pm though.
11:07 p.m. There’s some serious negotiating going on. Judging by Jay’s laughter and Molly’s insistent chatter, I’m afraid Molly’s winning.
11:12 p.m. We’re all about to watch Peppa Pig.
We were finally calmly enjoying the sun and pretzels after a few tragic events, according to Molly:
a) her fruit bar broke in half,
b) I wouldn’t let her take some tissues out of the garbage bin in the park,
c) she wasn’t allowed to play with the paracetamol tablets which she found in my bag,
d) her shorts didn’t cover her legs.
They say the best feeling in the world is the feeling of love you feel for your child. But there’s something even better.
There’s that moment when you’re putting pajamas on your child, getting her ready to sleep and she’s all warm and soft and smells incredible and she’s babbling away, thinking she’s helping by trying to put her socks back on and you’re watching her, full of adoration, thinking: “You’re amazing. I love you so much”.
And at that moment she stops what she’s doing, goes completely silent, looks straight into your eyes, a long, deep stare, and you just know she’s thinking exactly the same. And then she leans forwards and gives you a kiss. Not even winning a Nobel prize compares (and I can say this after winning three Nobel prizes).