5 (or so) minutes with an emotional wreck

And (for a change) it’s not me!

Daisy has been SO emotional this week. I do not know what is going on with her but we have had tears, tears and more tears. I am pretty sure it has to do with her being sick last week and all the special love and attention that she got from that. She has been literally clinging onto me, not letting me put her down (and let me tell you she is weighing in at around 16/17kgs at the mo, it is no small feat with my current belly to carry her, and me AND the babe). She has not wanted to go to daycare (I am still recovering from yesterday’s drop off) and has just been more cranky and sad than happy which is so not her. I talked to her carers at daycare and they all said that she has been normal, and happy and fine – it seems that she just saves it up for me. Lucky me. The time from pick up at around 5.30pm to bedtime at around 7.15pm has like some emotional roller coaster and been playing out like this:

Enter daycare to pick up Daisy…
Daisy excited, happy but wants to be picked up. And then not put down. All the way to the car.
“Carry me Mumma. Carry me!”

Then when we get to the car…
“Where’s the new car Mumma? I don’t want this car I want the new car!”
There may or may not be jelly snakes used as a bribe at this point to get her into car and on our way home.
“I wanna go home Mumma.”
“We are baby. We are on our way home right now. Yay!”
“Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! “
“We ARE Daisy. We are on our way home right now. Yay!”

Looking out the window….
“Go away houses! Go away cars! Go away Mumma! I don’t love Mumma, I love Dadda!”
“Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! Home! “
We then get home. And I try to get her out of the car.
“Carry me Mumma! Carry meeeeeeeeeeeee!”

We then get inside…
“I want dinner! I want cutlets!”
“That’s lucky cause that’s PUHZACTLY what we are having. Yay!”

Cutlets served out about 20 mins later…
“I DON’T want cutlets Mumma!
“Well have the rest that is on your plate. Cheese, and olives, carrot” (an eclectic mix I know)
“No! I want cutlets!”

Then, 10 or so mins later, getting ready for the bath…
“Ok now hop on the toilet before the bath. Good girl!”
“I want to wee standing up!”
“Well you can’t. Only boys can do that. You need a penis for that.”
“I want a PENIS! I want a PENIS!”

And so on and so forth for a further 30-60 mins…

Tears and tantrums and tears and laying on the floor crying at the injustice of it all! And then there is the hitting, and lashing out at me and then in the very same breath demanding a hug from me because it’s just all. so. hard. Honestly, the patience wears thin and when she finally collapses into sleep at about 8 (sometimes if I am lucky before then) I am SO totally over it and everything that I am ready to throw myself on the floor and have my very own 2 year old tantrum at the injustice of it all!

I tell you. The emotional roller coasters of a female toddler is enough to drive this lady to the drink. The Jekyll and Hyde happy one minute, suicidal, crazy little mental thing to sweet as pie adorable baby the next is SO exhausting. There are a couple things I know and understand about this:

1. I know it is completely normal, and if I was to read a book it would tell me something about testing boundaries, and being aware of emotions and blah, blah, blah but come on people…enough already.

2. I know that I should not react to these outbursts and just ignore them. That it only adds fuel to the fire. I understand this concept intellectually, but in practice? I can’t. I loose my shit after about 40 mins of it. She knows that and you think I would learn. But alas I cannot. I just don’t have the reserves of patience within me (that some mothers have) that allows it all to just wash over them. I am NOT that person. I react. I get angry. I end of yelling back in the exact same tone that I want her to stop yelling at me like. I know, it’s wrong but I can’t stop it. I am only human not a freaking mother-bot!

AND I hear (and have witnessed) that 3 can be worse than 2. Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! Say it ain’t so…

  • http://pinkpatentmaryjanes.blogspot.com/ pinkpatentmaryjanes

    Ouch – sending hugs your way and hoping this stage passes damned quickly for you!

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/05226515861332754382 halloweenlover

    Trust me, it isn’t just female toddlers, it is ALL TODDLERS. I call Gabe the “bipolar one” in our house, and for a toddler I think he is pretty reasonable. But I don’t care how reasonable of a toddler he is, they are totally insane. Up one minute, down in the dumps the next. Lunatics!

    And I sympathize because when I was pregnant I was ready to kill him 6 times a day. Sigh.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/13947330920627665175 Bethwyn

    Maybe it’s the fact that she’s 2.5 now, cos I swear this week Bailey has turned on the tantrums big time too. We even had our first public tantrum in the furniture store.

    And wow, she weighs 16/17kgs?! I think Bailey is sitting at around 12kgs! Maybe I should weigh him again.

  • http://www.blogger.com/profile/09010875794950739059 Eco-Chic-Mummy

    Poor you that sounds HARD! Don’t berate yourself for losing your patience – easier said than done I know – because I think everyone does. My 17 month old had her first proper tantrum today – it was insane, scary and a little bit hurtful (?!), so I feel very sympathetic!