Instructions Inschumckshins
It would seem Amy has inherited my “ability” to follow a set of written instructions. She also exhibits my exact same graceful and dignified behaviour when the instructions DON’T MAKE ANY F&;$ing SENSE.
It would seem Amy has inherited my “ability” to follow a set of written instructions. She also exhibits my exact same graceful and dignified behaviour when the instructions DON’T MAKE ANY F&;$ing SENSE.
A courier came knocking this morning with this little gem, ordered by my outstanding husband. I’ve been wanting to read “I heart my little a-holes” by Karen Alpert ( Baby Sideburns) ever since she had it published. Now three things need to happen so I can sit down and read it: 1. The baby needs to fall asleep. 2. The dishes/laundry need to do themselves. 3. I need to go back in time to this morning and change the three year old’s punishment from “you will not be watching Frozen today!” to something else so that I can regain 98 minutes of relatively demand-free time. Failing that, I may fake a minor stomach upset that necessitates I sit in the loo all day while Someone Else looks after the kids.
You can tell that sleep training has become a feature when the three year old glances at the lit-up baby monitor, shakes her head and says, “looks like Tilly is awake. Are you going to resettle her or just see what she does?”
“Mummy! It’s a thunder and lycra storm!” I think Amy has just nailed a great name for a metal band specialising in aerobics music.
“MUM! I nearly finished my vitamin, but it fell out of my mouth somewhere in the lounge, or your room, or my room and I can’t find it! YOU HAVE TO FIND IT!” “Ummm, can I get you a new vitamin? Here we go.” “No! It has to be the one I was eating or it will be the saddest day EVER.” Anyone want to come help me comb through vitamin-coloured shag pile? #AverageParentProblems
Propping the baby’s cot up to help her runny nose…how soon is Too Soon for Jilly Cooper?!
Is it poor form to turn the extractor fan on high so you can legitimately say to the three year old, “sorry lovey, I just cant hear you!” in an attempt to avoid answering the same question for the 20th time in an hour? No actual cooking was taking place.
Me: “There’s some pie left over from dinner, would you like to have it for your lunch?” Amy: “Yee-ess, BUT just pie and tomato sauce and no veges. I can’t deal with vegetables today.”
Amy: “Mum, where are the sulks?” Me: “The whats? What are sulks?” Amy: “I don’t know. But Dad said I can have one.” Me: “What exactly did Dad say?” Amy: “He said, ‘if you’re going to behave like that then you can go and have a sulk in your bedroom.’ So, can I have one please?” More cause for having a sulk when it sunk in that it’s not some sort of new sugar-laden treat.
If you’re going to get all exasperated and say to your three year old: “stop wiping your sticky hands on the table, Amy! You need to use your head more, please!” then you better be prepared for that advice to be taken really, really literally.