Dear Secret Diary ,
The Mother has been looking far too confident and relaxed lately, I need to do something to remind her who’s actually in charge around here. No more Little Miss Nice. It’s time to take her down a peg or two.
I’ve got my game plan all worked out…
Stage 1 of my attack is ‘Rude Awakening‘, which involves me waking up really early (I find around 5:45am is best for maximum parental torture) and really grumpy, and then refusing to do anything she asks me to do. Get dressed? Nope. Eat breakfast? No way Jose. Drink some milk? I don’t think so woman, not in that colour cup anyway. Don’t you know I want the red one?? No, not THAT red one! The other red one! The one that I lost at the park last week! Jeez! (Insert massive eye roll).
Stage 2 is ‘Bust out the Why’s‘. Anything she asks, anything she says, I’ll respond with a curious little “why?”, with a cute head tilt as if I really want to know. I don’t really want to know; who actually gives a shit why it’s Wednesday today, or why the floor is on the ground. But I know that my constant and incessant why’s will eventually drive her to the brink, and make her realise that she, in fact, knows nothing.
Please pick up your shoes, she says.
Because they are in the way there, and someone might trip over them.
Because someone might step on them there, and then fall over and hurt themselves. You don’t want anyone to hurt themselves do you?
Because… it’s not nice when people hurt themselves, is it?
Because… because I said so, that’s why, JUST PUT THEM AWAY!!
Ha. I win.
Stage 3 is ‘Operation Total Melt-down for No Apparent Reason‘. This is one of my favourite stages. I get to release all of my pent up 3 year old frustration and anger, and I also get to entertain my little brother. He especially loves it when I throw myself on the floor and start banging my head. Classic. If we’re out at the shops then this stage is doubly effective, and almost guaranteed to result in an ice cream for me, and a detour to the bottle shop for the Mother. Win win.
Stage 4… and we’re only up to lunchtime now dear diary, please keep up. Stage 4 is the ‘Lunchtime Lottery‘. This involves me requesting something specific for lunch, then refusing to eat it, then asking for something else, refusing to eat that…. and repeat. I may even decide to throw in a melt-down as well, but this melt-down will be different to the ones in Stage 3, because during Stage 4 there absolutely WILL BE a reason for the melt-down, and that reason is that The Mother has screwed up my lunch order. Again. Seriously, get it together lady. How do you even function?
Stage 5 is the ‘Nap Offensive‘. I haven’t quite decided yet if I’ll refuse to have a nap altogether, so that I am a horrible, whingey mess by the end of the day, or if I initially refuse to have a nap, then fall asleep on the couch at 4pm, resulting in me being completely wired and virtually impossible to put to bed later on. Either strategy ends in the Mother pulling her hair out, so I’ll just see how the day pans out.
Stage 6 is another favourite of mine – ‘Art Attack‘. This is where I demand to do some arts and crafts, and spread the paint, stickers, glue and/or glitter all over the house, and then get bored after 5 minutes and just want to watch TV instead. Nice.
Stage 7 is the ‘Dinner Debacle‘ which has a very similar strategy to the Lunchtime Lottery, but this one involves the Mother doing actual cooking, and therefore results in even more frustration for her. By this stage she’ll be just about at her wit’s end. Of course I’ll be pretty exhausted too, but I must persevere through to Stage 8. It’ll be worth it. I might throw in some foot stamping with dinner to perk myself up a bit.
Stage 8 – the final Stage – is the ‘Bedtime Dilly Dally‘, a tactic I’m sure is well known to all toddlers and parents of toddlers around the world. The Bedtime Dilly Dally starts off with me getting super excited and wound up about 15 minutes before my scheduled bedtime, and then needing 28 stories, 12 songs, a gazillion cuddles, a drink of water, a wee, another drink of water and possibly a cheeky bedtime poo, before finally falling asleep 2 hours after the aforementioned ‘bedtime’. If I’ve had a sneaky late afternoon nap on the couch then she’ll be lucky if I’m asleep before 10pm.
Successful completion of all 8 stages is guaranteed to result in the Mother ending the day curled up on the couch in the foetal position, wondering why she ever thought she was any good at this parenting thing in the first place. My rightful place as the Queen of this house will be restored.
The next day I’m going to be super sweet, say lots of cute and funny things, and give her loads of kisses and cuddles at random moments, just to make her feel completely crazy, and keep her guessing.
Wish me luck, it’s going to be a totes exhausting day!
Little Miss Threenager 3.5