Category Archives: Tantrums

How to finish with the moon?

All the way through being a mum I’ve sort of had a project on the go, it’s the main issue of the day if you like, I’ll concentrate on that until we get it nailed then look for the next mission.

So, it might be eating decent food or potty training or not taking your clothes off in the park.

Right now I think I’m gaining on my biggest win to date. After sleeping in with me for 2 years, I have got my 4 year old daughter to sleep in her own bed in her own room, hoooorrrraaaaayyyyy!!! But that doesn’t mean I haven’t had to endure pain on the way. Nights of getting up 7 or 8 times in the night are not rare and we’ve had many a melt down after getting to the top of the stairs at bedtime. But she’s finally got there…..with bribery.

Every morning the moon, the lovely kind hearted moon that used to put her in my bed, leaves her a present under her bed if she’s been there all night. Felt tip pens, a purse, a torch, socks (whatever I’ve bought at the shop that day, she even got a tin of rice pudding one morning) they all spur her on to being a “big girl” and stay there overnight.

Problem is, I’ve been doing this, sorry, the moon has been doing this for 3 months now and is running out of ideas and money. Any tricks you lovely people have for bringing this tradition to a close would be gratefully received?


Split up from my kid on a flight!

I really can’t believe what I’m about to tell you. We’ve just had a lovely holiday in Sardinia, went to the airport to check in for the return flight and walked away with our tickets. It was pure luck then I looked at the boarding passes to see if we had a window seat for my little one that wanted it so much, and that I clocked that three of us, two adults and a child had been completely split up. No I’m not talking one on either side of the aisle, we were sat 10 rows apart. My daughter is four years old for goodness sake, she can’t be expected to sit on her own, and I doubt she would anyway.
And what about the people she’d be sat with, I doubt if they would enjoy the flight either. I find it completely unacceptable and have since heard that it’s a moneymaking scheme by the airlines to make you pay to book your seat. If the adults are split up its no real bother but the airline would surely not take a four-year-old flying on their own, so how can this be seen as okay? I really can’t believe it. How can I be responsible for her if she’s not even within spitting distance of me. It’s not like they didn’t know her age, they saw her passport, they saw her asleep in the buggy, they even put a luggage tag on the pushchair. You can’t honestly begin to understand what that would do to a parent and what it did to me when I don’t like flying anyway. And what if some thing happened in midair? Would I have to rely on a complete stranger to take her to the toilet, to fire her iPad up to watch Zootropolis and to do colouring in with her?
As it was, I marched straight back to the desk and had stern words, making sure she was at least sat with me. It’s complete madness and I’m getting more cross as I write this. Come on airlines sort it out.

I need your help with the dentist….

That’s twice now, twice that we’ve been to the dentist and Lois hasn’t opened her mouth, twice now that I’ve been through the embarrassment and twice now that I’ve had to rebook the appointment so that the dentist can hopefully one day, count her teeth before she’s in her 50s. This time I even went in the chair before her, yes I’ve paid for me to have a checkup appointment so that I could show her there is nothing to worry about. Did it make a difference, hell no. 
We’d even done rehearsals at home because I know last time she sat in the chair she pursed her lips together and she didn’t move them, my little chatterbox didn’t say a word just in case the dentist got to look at her gnashers.
So I had to resort to bribery, whilst sat in the chair I told her that she was a really big girl and that she could do this and it wouldn’t hurt, but there she sat tight lipped. I said that we could go to the park straight afterwards if she let them have a look, I promised that she could have my phone in the car to watch videos on YouTube, I also said we’d get her favourite food prawns on the way home. No still not having it. She was promised a sticker if she did it, which did the trick for me at 4 years old, but no not for her. 
So I took my last shot, gritted my teeth put my mouth on her ear and told her that if she didn’t open her lips and let the man take a look at her pegs she would never have a prize egg again. It’s bad form to promise your little girl chocolate while she sat in the dentist chair but that’s where she pushes me to! Have a guess what happened, yep I’ve got my fingers crossed for 3rd time lucky. When we arrived home I asked her about it and what she was worried about, nothing is the answer I got and she informed me that she would do it when she’s 8! That kid has got to be kidding me. 
How the hell do you get them to do it? Any tips would be great! Bar dropping haribo into her open mouth, it’s a bit frowned upon there. 

Merry Christmas, for one day only.

The reality never lives up to the dream does it? And that’s never more true than at Christmas. We all strive for the perfect day with a turkey dinner and a snowman built out the front of our house, just like the pictures on the cards. But it’s just not like that is it?
I’ve got to say, my little un came close to perfect on Christmas Day, playing nicely with the toys she’d opened in the morning and not really taking any notice of the ones still wrapped under the tree, which is no mean feat for a 3 year old. But Boxing Day was meltdown city from start to finish. Nothing, and I mean nothing, was right. We went out for some fresh air,  obviously she had to wear her new Rapunzel dress and Rapunzel hair, she wanted to hold something in her hand, it HAD to be a sausage and some ketchup, then just wailing for half an hour cos I said no. Not the best look for a Disney Princess. 
It continued in the car, when she missed approximately 2 seconds of a song and demanded a rewind. Someone nudged her, the potato was in the wrong place and wanting marshmallows in the middle of the night all warrant kicking and screaming apparently. 

When can I go back to work? 

Just too tired….

I have a very tired little girl on my hands this week. My 3 year old is caught up in all the Christmas festivities in a big way. Everyday it seems there’s another thing going on, whether it be making another decoration to go on the tree, nativity or trip to see Santa, and it’s wearing her out. When she gets to the worn out stage she invariably cries, but it reached a new level. Getting in the car to go and see some lights the whinging started and it kept going. I tried to pacify her with snacks, tried to talk her round with what we were going to see, anything that would make her stop, but nothing would. I asked her to stop before I got cross and my heart sank when she said “I can’t stop whinging mummy.” Poor little mite just needed to sit still with nothing to overwhelm her. 

Pleeeeease don’t do that!!

Must I point out EVERYTHING that my 3 year old shouldn’t do? Should I have to tell her that spaghetti hoops are to go in your mouth not up your nose. Should I have to tell her that you don’t have to ‘huggle’ the shop assistant that asked if you needed any help. And should I have to tell her that paint is to go on paper not shoes or dogs. I picked her up from pre school this week, full of smiles and regaling me with stories of what she’d been up to. Digging up potatoes, kicking through the leaves and painting. PAINTING HER SHOES! The beautiful light blue shoes had come home bright red and are, as we speak, spinning round the washing machine. To be fair though, she was very neat and tidy, and didn’t go over the lines. 

Do I tell her or not?

Lois was due to have her 3 year old jabs this week. Appointment made I then agonised over whether to say something about it to her or keep schtum. If I tell her, will she have nightmares and wake up screaming about needles? But if I leave it, will she hate me forever for giving her the lovely surprise of injections from the nurse. 

It didn’t matter with the last lot, she was only a baby, but this girl is ‘switched on’ not a lot gets past her. So I gave her a little heads up the bedtime before, letting her know that we would go to the doctors and there would be a scratch on her arm that would stop her getting poorly.”I be ok.” Bonus I thought. 
In the car on the way she clicked straight away that it was what we had spoken about the previous evening and the tears started rolling down her cheeks. How bad did I feel? Had I scared the wits out of her? Was I putting on too much of a brave face? Did she think I was enjoying it? 
Trying to get her into the surgery was a bit of a mission, she knew what was coming, but I had Merida doll, from Disney’s Brave (very apt I thought and it’s her favourite film) to coax her in. 

Armed with the doll, party rings and the Paw Patrol app on my phone we went to the waiting room. We were called in and I’m still in shock about it, forget having to hold her down, she stopped crying completely and didn’t make a sound when that needle went in. A second one in the other arm, not even a peep! That’s my girl! So proud, but I still don’t know whether I should have said anything?  

Illustration by SiouxiqDesign