Overnight, my gurgling baby has been replaced by a very frustrated little man who would seem to have anger management issues at such a tender age. Any attempts to put on shoes, jumpers, coats, hats or socks send him into a complete frenzy. He runs, wriggles, writhes and does everything in his power to avoid being dressed. I doubt Harry Houdini contorted this much when attempting some of his greatest escapes.
Even if I do manage to get things on my wilful child, they are then diligently removed when I turn my back to do something else. Pause, rewind and replay the entire scene again. Half an hour and lots of muttered expletives later, we may actually get to leave the house.
TV being turned off, the wrong type of biscuit, the wrong cup for his milk, turning off the tap after washing hands, the wrong book, the wrong song on the CD, sitting in the buggy, getting into the car seat all result in huge amounts of protestation and general outrage.
I patiently (most of the time!) persist and continue to retrace my steps and replay my day over and over again, putting the socks and shoes back on, wrestling with various straps and buckles and, more often than not, resorting to raisins as a bribe.
Suffice to say, I feel somewhat battle-scarred at the end of the day. But as the final protest is offered as I walk out of the room at bedtime, I know that the next few precious hours, before I fall into bed, are mine – all mine. So I indulge in a few guilty pleasures; currently a large glass of wine, M&S Crunchy Combo and Britain’s Got Talent. After all, there will be more battling to contend with tomorrow and I need to make sure I’m fully prepared!
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