Perfectly Happy Mum

F**k it is snowing again!!

And it seems that the world is about to end and we need to make sure we buy ALL the eggs and ALL the milk, and the bread, the flour, the bananas... 

Yesterday I ventured to my favourite shop in the whole world: Sainsbury's (sense the irony of course). The Met office was announcing heavy snow for the South East. Southwest trains had already cancelled trains for the next morning in anticipation of the event. We were almost out of nappies so I had no choice but go to the shop while the ground was still dry. 

When I arrived I was quite pleased the find that the shop looked almost empty. There was a reason for that: everyone had already been and bought EVERYTHING!! 

The shelves were completely empty. You might think that I over exaggerate (again) but it was REAL reality. The bread counter had a few rolls. All the part baked bread was gone. The only few eggs left were smashed. The fresh milk was gone, only a few full fat 4 pints were left. The nappies were almost out too! 

All the time spent hunting for what we really needed,  I kept hoping "Please have M&M's, please HAVE M&M's!" because that's all I REALLY wanted. And they had THANK THE LORD! That's not all. You know the large Lindt Santa? They are 75p at the moment, YES 75p! So we are now out of bread and a few other things but we have chocolate. 

Hope you are surviving the chaos caused by the snow storm and that noone had been stranded in cars or had frozen pipes or anything making things difficult! Thinking of you wherever you are!

What did you do on New Year's Eve?

So come on COME ON TELL ME!! What did you do for New Year's Eve? Fancy party? Night in? Night out? 

This year the Perfectly Happy family stayed all under one roof and it was ours. 

Every year, for the last 3 years, we have spent New Year's Eve with close friends at their house. We all have something in common: snotty pygmies who have decided that our social life would be banned for a few years (children that is). 

So we get together and show them that we can still have fun on alcohol free bubbly... ermm... 

Anyway this year as CHICKENPOX sneakily contaminated our home and our life, New Year's Eve was to be spent at home. 

It was probably best like this. After the previous nights spent one eye asleep, the other one WIDE AWAKE due to Victor refusing to let us sleep, I doubt we would have been great company. I am sure it would have looked sort of rude to go for a nap from 8 pm to 11.55 pm and then say "HAPPY NEW YEAR!! ... Now bye, see you later". 

So for our special night in we decided to go a bit crazy and ordered an Iiiindiaaaan... whoooooohoooo... Not our regular meal of course, or how would it be special? 

We had TWO starters instead of one, two new mains (NOT the usual ones) and TWO nans instead of one, with rice AND a side dish. We even threw in a LARGE glass of white wine! See totally special!

Delivery was in at 8 pm, food was eaten by 9 pm (we did take it slowlier in an attempt to make it even more special). By 9.30 pm I was snoring gracefully on the sofa...  

Craig gave me a nudge and took me to bed. I begged him to stay with me and we could watch telly together rather than be apart on NEW YEAR'S EVE! He reluctantly accepted knowing that I would be snoring again 10 min later and that he would have to watch his program on a TV with sound disability. Just a few weeks ago the bedroom TV sound (not even 2 years old yet) started playing up and you have to turn it on at least 30 min before watching it, to give it time to warm up... 

Anyway he stayed and I fell asleep. 

For some weird reasons though, I woke up to see the count down on Big Ben at 45 seconds. I sat down and counted down:  FIIIVE FOUUUUR THREEEEEEE TWOOOOOOOOO OOOOOONNNNNNNEEE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! 

I kissed Craig and went straight back to sleep. 

That was the perfect New Year' Eve. 

I have to admit that I have never ever been a fan of New Year's Eve parties. You generally spend far more that you can afford on a party where you will end up spending all night wondering what the heck you are doing there, watching people getting rat ass, vomiting in every corner of the room, wanting to be kissed at midnight... No thanks... 

I love the new ones spent with friends at their house, eating, watching the men drinking and have a great lie in while us women run around the house after the kids... why do I like these?! huumm... 

Anyway, this year I much prefered wearing my new slippers... 

  

Hope you had a great one and please tell me WHAT DID YOU DO?! 

A big old rant on rude people!!

Warning: this post contains some strong language of a very rude nature and portrays the main character (ME) with evident signs of hormonal imbalance.

It snowed last night. Yep all the pensioners in the area were right to stock up on mince pies. There was at least 1 inch on every surface. The problem with snow and minus 4C is that is turns into ice very quickly.

We had a birthday party to go to this morning and despite a very tough morning trying to contain 2 young children into one place without trashing anything for once, I still felt up for it. I also was really looking forward to catching up with a friend I hadn't seen since the last birthday party of her son.

So we got ready. And I had to repeat everything at least twice from "stop jumping on my bed" to "put your shoes on" And shout a little. Ok shout a lot.

When we finally reached the point of being ready to go, we were late. Nevermind, their new address was supposed to be located 8 min from our house so it wasn't too bad.

I started feeling a bit apprehensive when it was obvious that the ground wasn't gripping. The stress started to reach a certain level but still manageable.

We arrived at the area where their new house was located. All I could see was fields and horses on one side and lots of houses (absolutely gorgeous) on the other side. The street I was supposed to turn into wasn't showing any signs of existence. And all the signs available turned out to be covered in snow. I couldn't really stop and wipe the snow off of every boards.

At that point stress was reaching a higher level.

We went up and down a snowed and icy road a couple of times, so it was time to stop and check where we were on the map.

I wanted to turn into a side street away from the main road. I waited for the road to clear to take a right turn. A taxi was coming from the opposite direction, but as he was coming nearer he slowed down and waved as if he was chasing flies or telling me to go! I thought "what a lovely gesture". So off I went. That's when he accelerated and waved off far more obscenities than flies. I froze on the road. Let him go and apologised (for not understanding that when he slowed down and waved it wasn't to let me go!). At this point a very loud "YOU F****G W**KER" escaped. Yes it did and yes Elliott and Victor heard it...

Eventually I figured out where we were and decided to give it another go.

I had noticed the entrance of a private Club but thought it was some sort of exclusive club that's it. I didn't imagine that there could be houses in there. OK to some it might seem so "not up in the world" but I thought that entering this would lead me nowhere... except that it lead somewhere... It lead to a residential area full of huge detached houses with drives for 10 cars and all the rest.

Now just before I write the rest of the story I have to say that my friend who lives there is one the sweetest person I have met and so lovely that she has absolutely nothing NOTHING in common with her "up her own ass" neighbour!

Anyway I spotted her house finally, the balloons gave it away. By then we were about 45 min late. I went up and down the street wondering where the hell I was going to park since her drive was full. Anyway with the road covered and no signs around I supposed that along the road next to her house was fine. By that time anyway I would have dumped the car anywhere. I was so stressed because of the taxi, the ice on the road, the kids not happy to miss their lunch and nap, that I thought "You know what, it looks fine here and I am in no one's way, let's park just here".

It was time to free the children from the confided space of their seat. Elliott had been begging the whole journey so I was more than happy to get him out.

As I was chatting to him and undoing his straps I heard (please add the old condescending English accent for more effect):

Her: "Excuse me"

I stick my head out of the car, look around, did I dream that?

Her: "Yes, Yooouuu"

I look again and suddenly see her. She is the owner of the house just opposite where I parked the car.

Me: "Yes?"

Her: "You have no intention of parking here, have you?"

Me: "Isn't it OK?"

Her: "Off course NOT! This is private road dear and it is for resident only. Surely you have noticed the gate that says it is a priiivaaate road?! Haven't you dear?"

Oh you mean the 5 meter high, cast iron gate, ornate with the colour of the club, dated sometime around 1905 is where it says "PRIVATE"?! Will you stop giving me that condescending tone and "dear"ing me or I will totally loose it you F***ING - A*S -H*LE!!!

Me: "Euh yes I did, but there is so much snow everywhere, that I am confused as to where to park"

Her: "Well not here obviously... Oh and look at that! You parked on the front lawn! OH MY GOD you RUINED the lawn!"

At that stage I went from feeling mortified to wanting to get into the car and drive ON the lawn and even in circle, twice at least to make sure it RUINS the lawn properly!! And shout "by the way GET A BL**DY LIFE! Haven't you got anything else to do than play the Rottweiller of your PRIVATE road?! How about doing some crafty things with your friends at the Women's Institute to impress your visitors at Christmas? Or how about a course on how to communicate nicely and effectively?"

I have to say that I was in absolutely no mood or state to look for another space, so when I got Elliott back in the car and looked at Victor who was deeply asleep I made the decision to go home. The drive home was quite emotional. I couldn't understand why people can be so harsh in the way they speak or generally interact with others. I know I am very sensitive to the way people speak. Not so much the words but the tone of their voice or the look on their face. It really affects me when people are rude or harsh. Not always but at times.

Now I have to confess. Just in case you are reading this E, yes I lied to you on the text I sent you. I said the boys weren't well and that's why we didn't come to the party. I simply didn't want to admit to you and your guests that I was an emotional wreck and that the general conditions of today didn't improve my state. Most of all I didn't want to say hello and cry... so we went home but I promise to pay you a visit very soon to bring F's present and I promise not to park on your neighbour's lawn. I also promise to stay long enough to catchup on all the gossips I have missed in a year as well as meeting little A. a whole year after his birth! And by the way the new house is GORGEOUS!! Can't wait to see the inside! Hope the party went well lovely... Oh and by the way, I hope the neighbour is not someone like your mum or something like that...

Photo credit London Looks not the real neighbour but how I envision her following this morning events...

What are your favourite things?

We are officially in December and WOW, how did this happen??!!

I mean wasn't it yesterday that I was wondering how I was going to finish my pouches for the Christening in July?
Or if we were going to give the evil dummies to the Easter Bunny (which we didn't in the end)??
Or when we bumped into the Metropolitan Mum Family on the Ile de Re? Not just randomly sitting at the terrace of a cafe to discover from a far that they were at the same cafe. No! I mean going up and down the Marina spotting the place we'd prefer. Coming back to the first cafe we'd seen. Walking through the terrace holding approximately 100 tables, and deciding to go to the far right corner and sitting RIGHT NEXT to Metropolitan Mum! Now dude, I officially believe in syncronicity.

Time goes too quickly. Far too quickly.

I couldn't have a clearer memory of when we visited our house for the first time. What it looked like and what we loved about it. The plans we had for it.

Or finding out I was pregnant for the first time. And the second.

Or being told Craig's Uncle has passed away while we were on honeymoon, when he was full of life and having a great time at our wedding just a couple of weeks before.

Life is full of tricks. One minute you are here, the next you or your loved ones could be gone.

Is it worth dwelling on what is not right in our life? Spending too much time and energy worrying about the chocolate stains on the sofa that even wipes won't make disappear. Or that lovely drawing on the wall THAT SHOULDN'T BE THERE!!!

Let's think of our favourite things today. Mine are :

• Watching the boys laugh and play together
• Cuddling the boys when they are tired. That special moment when they just abandon themself to me, their mummy and know that I am here to love and protect them. When they can feel this love pouring out of my body and filling theirs.
• Spending a special quiet moment with Craig at the end of a busy day, especially on a Saturday night.
• Being the 4 of us against the rest of the world.
• Dipping into a hot bath with a good book.
• Drinking my first coffee in the morning.
• Getting together with my girlfriends for a laugh or a cry.
• Spending one hour on the phone with my sister just to laugh at the most random things.
• Walking on a crisp sunny morning.
• Drinking an Eggnog Latte from Starbucks.
• Going on holiday.

So how about you? What are your favourite things?

Photo credit SnoShuu

All I wanted was a nice, quiet, hot bath.

I started running the hot water and added the bath foam. I like it really hot and really bubbly.

My nice posh candles were sitting by the bath waiting for a lighter to be found. The lighter was never found so instead I added more bath foam.

The ipod was waiting to be turned on, but the speakers decided to run flat.

Nevermind, the temperature was perfect and the bubbles totally bubbly.

I put one foot in and then the rest of my body. As I lay there I closed my eyes and indulged in the silence and the heat contrasting marvelously with the room temperature.

Aaaaahhh...

THEN the neighbours decided to start a fight! Why, oh why do they always choose that time when I am simply trying to relax to start arguing!!! The bathroom walls are far too thin I am afraid.

So off we go. They are Italian and I can't understand Italian unless you speak very slowly and put lots of "mamma mia", "tortellini" or "gelatino". So all I can hear is very loud and aggressive voices. She shouts and he shouts back.
Then I hear something I know. She says something like "tua mamma"* which I translate by "your mother" and he replied something saying "mia mamma"* which I guess means "my mother".

AAHH! I know that one! In my attempt to make sense to the conversation I came to the conclusion that it was either something like "You are a big mother f***er" or "your mother can rot in hell".

Anyway while I was busy making sense of all the non sense, it stopped. Dead like this. No more screams. No more voices.

My imagination started racing: what if he killed her? what if she killed him? what if CSI or spooks turn up at the door later? I would be a witness! Would I need to get dressed and not stay in my pyjamas for the rest of the evening just in case they turn up? Make up! I would need to wear make up, they might be cute or they might need a photo of me along with my finger prints... hang on, I didn't kill anyone, THEY did!

A second later he was on the phone in the back garden shouting stuff. So either he was on the phone with his mum complaining about his wife or he is calling a mate to come and help dispose of the body... By then the bath might have been slightly to hot because I could be in total delirium.

She was alive, I could hear THE voice again. I was relieved.

Now if you are regular to this blog you know about THE neighbours as I introduced them to you a while back.

Since then a lot of fights took place but most of them not really interesting to talk about. One of the last on the other hand was quite eventful.
It happened on a Saturday evening. Craig and I were relaxed (note the pattern, as soon as I relax, BANG it happens) a nice glass of wine in hand, and a very cheesy Saturday movie that I insisted on watching.

Aaaaahhhh...

Bang bang bang down the stairs! Stuff falling. I can hear shouting. He screams. She screams.

I take the remote control and turned the volume right down. Craig takes it back and put the volume back up telling me to stop being nosy. ME NOSY??!! I take the remote back and turned the volume off again. Craig sits here trying to guess what is going on on TV, while I stretch my ear to listen what is going on next door. I am only concerned, that's it!

We can hear their front door open followed by "HELPEE MEE!!!" (with Italian accent). I fly to our door, open it and ask her if she is ok. They are standing on their drive facing each other. She looks at me and then bends down pick up a stone and throws it at him! He looks at her speechless. Turns his back and goes home. By then I am not sure anymore who is in danger...

I close the door, sit on the sofa, turn the volume back up and feel stupid! Craig gives me the look "told you to stop being nosy..."

I WASN'T BEING NOSY!!!!

Needless to say that I avoided the neighbours for as long as I possibly could...

*Disclaimer: I am totally aware of the fact that it might be bad Italian...

Photo Credit Auntie P

My life with PMS...

I was reading back some of my latest posts and OH MY GOD do I complain...

If it is not about Elliott being a little cheeky terror it is about Victor who has been a rather loud toddler lately. Or this is about the lack of energy contained in my aching body.
 
It is about time for me to face the facts: every passing month, at a certain time of the month, generally around 2 weeks before THE time of the month I become a complete hormonal freak. I turn into the scary werewolf you do not want to cross...

A couple of weeks ago, the world was a big black hole and so deep I couldn't see any light. My mornings were made of coffees sprinkled with tears. My body was aching and every bit of me just wanted to hide in that hole not to be seen for weeks. I just wanted to be alone with no one around; just me, myself and my shadow. But how can you ever be alone when you have 2 little toddlers whose life revolves around you?

During these few days making breakfast was like running a marathon and getting dressed was attempting to climb the Everest just after the marathon.

I cried... I cried every morning for a few days and then I started crying the rest of the day for a few more days. I cried when the boys were trashing the house. I cried when I found Victor licking the toilet seat or when Elliott found my sewing box and started unraveling my threads.

I cried on the phone with my mum who kept telling me I had to see a doctor because "gosh, you sound like a depressed woman" is what she kept saying. She convinced me and I was started to think that maybe I needed help. Everything was tipping me over the edge and I was battling between highs and lows.
The toilet seat incident provoked floods of tears followed by loud laughter when, to cheer me up, Victor attempted to walk with a toilet roll balanced on top of his head bearing the cheekiest smile. 

And then after a few days it got better. The hole was becoming smaller and brighter and I could laugh again. My energy level raised and I was happy again.
Most important of all, I was enjoying the company of my children again.

So I reflected on the previous few days.

I remembered that a couple of months ago, when my mum visited us, we had planned a Spa day. I remember that day feeling like a miserable wreck. Actually feeling the same as that latest episode. 

And then last month I remember turning into an absolute freak because our bedroom "was always messy" and all I was asking was to have a tidy bedroom to retreat to after a long day and not an old socks cemetery...

That's when it hit me. The truth hit me. I am suffering from Premenstrual Syndrome... 

Anyone out there having it very badly and could recommend something? And does anyone know if evening primrose oil can be administered with a drip and the possibility to top it up in emergency, for example in the situation of a toilet seat licking event or when socks are left lying around the bedroom floor?!

If anyone has any advice, please share it...

They don't tell you this when you are expecting...

Or is it just me they didn't tell?

Having kids physically hurt! I hear you laughing. I am not talking about the burning stinging pain of giving birth, I am talking about what follows after the birth.

Jeez, since having 2 children I haven't had a pain free day:

• My feet request that I wear shoes or slippers (with hard soles) at all times when walking around the house. They are fed up of the excruciating pain caused by all these tiny toys parts scattered around the house.
• My back forgot what it feels like to walk straight. I am constantly bending midway to either pick up a child or pick up the tiny toys making my feet's life a misery. Come bath time and bedtime and I need an assistant to help wrestling with Elliott and Victor.
• My legs and butt do not believe in justice anymore. If justice existed they would be considerably slimmer and firmer for going up and down the stairs hundreds of times a day. No matter how well prepared I am I ALWAYS forget something upstairs.
• My arms ache for carrying someone all the time.
• My whole head and face hurts for regularly being punched or headbutted when trying to contain a wriggling toddler while dressing him or simply when I need to restrain him in one place.
• I am lucky I still have teeth following a couple of close calls during recent wrestling sessions when trying to put socks on Elliott.
• My ear lobes almost saw the end of them not so long ago when a lovely new pair of dangling earings attracted Victor's tiny hands.
• My hair has never been pulled so much. Again I am lucky for not having bald patches.

Why don't they tell you that? The least NCT classes should do is teach you self defense techniques under a toddler attack or how to dodge the punches and headbuts!

Photo credit (Note the Drama Queen effect) Mac(3) Flikr 

I love seasons, don't you?

Autumn is settling in there is no doubt about that. Today is miserable, cold and wet. I got soaked on the way back from preschool but I don't mind much. I like seasons.

I like when things change and everytime a new season starts it brings back memories of my childhood. They fill me with these moments from the past when I had my beloved grand parents and when I was oblivious to the responsabilities I would have to face once an adult.

Autumn are these Sundays afternoon when we used to go for long walks in the woods, when it was damp and we would pick chestnuts. We would go back to the cosiness of our home. We would roast the chestnuts and curl up on the sofa to watch a family movie while eating them. Autumn is red and orange. It is bright and crisp. This is a time when nature shows off its best colours.

Winter for me is white. When I was growing up there wasn't one Winter without snow. I remember walking to school with moonboots. I remember falling on ice that had been covered by snow at night and would suddenly play a trick on us when stepping out of the house. Winter is the smell of oranges, clementines and of course chocolate. Winter is also red, gold and green. Winter is Christmas and family.

Then comes Spring. Spring is fresh, green, pink, blue and bright. Spring is a renewal. For me spring is the time when we start getting rid of layers. Days are longer. Evenings are milder.  It is a build up to the summer. It is a time when we want to change, improve our look, our figure and we start staying out longer.

And then it is time for Summer. Summer is hot and sand. It is barbecues, meals outside, family gathering, holidays. Summer is a time when we settle a little while before starting all over again...

Before Autumn comes back.

I love seasons, do you? What do they mean to you?

Before you go, please go and check the new TOP 100 UK Parenting blog at Who's the Mummy? I am proud that Perfectly Happy Mum is number 56, but you should really check the fab blogs and bloggers in there!

Also for bloggers using Blogspot and who used to have Perfectly Happy Mum on your blogroll, you can now add it again. The issue has been fixed, it only took 3 months...!

Photo Credit Digitalart

Do you love all your children the same way?

Right before we go on and you lapidate me for what I have just said, let me explain what I mean by this.

You see, since the birth of Victor I have analysed and tried to understand the feelings I have. It has been months or shall I say from the moment I got pregnant with Victor that I have felt guilty for feeling this way.

When these 2 precious lines appeared I  felt the same amount of joy and excitement than the first time, only to realise days later that it wasn't the first time. I had to realise that it wasn't my pregnancy with Elliott all over again, I was expecting ANOTHER baby! That's when this terrible feeling hit me. I could not imagine giving so much love to another baby and in consequence if I had to share the love I was giving to Elliott, I was splitting bits away from him. It felt like a terrible betrayal. How could I betray him?

It tortured me for months during my pregnancy. I raised it with my Midwife who thought it was just a phase. And she was right, it was just a phase. It became better. Lots of other women before me were doing it and they still loved all their kids "the same way" or "as much as the others". If they could do it, I could do it.

Then when Victor was born the guilt came back. Through that gorgeous little baby I wanted to relive the excitement and joy I felt when Elliott was born. When we came home from hospital, all I wanted to make sure was that Elliott felt that I loved him as much as I had always loved him. Yes there was a baby that I loved with all my heart. Yes I gave him all the attention he needed. I just had to make sure Elliott knew nothing had changed. But things had changed and I couldn't put words on it. Victor had me physically with food, cuddles and kisses, but he didn't have the whole of me emotionally. That's when I started worrying.

Months went by and I meant to write about it for a long time now, but I wasn't ready for it. I wasn't ready to admit that my love for both my children is "different". I couldn't admit it, because there was one more thing I had to admit first: my love was different but it was as intense for both. That's the intensity of this love that I needed to make sure was there. And it is. Oh yes it is! Explaining this is hard, but it is definitely as profound and intense.

It took me over a year to admit one thing to myself and it is that loving your children the same way can be a myth. Children are individuals with all that it entails. They have a personality, moods, things they love and things they don't. Being individuals they have individual needs and passion so it means that they are different.
Therefore is it bad that in response to that parents have got a different sort of love? I don't think so. I think it is human and natural.
As parents we too have moods, tastes and needs. Our role as adults is to act as adults. We need to acknowledge the fact that they are different and they need to be treated differently in certain circumstances. Some children are more trying than others and some other are more emotional.

When I was growing up, my sister and I were totally different. I was the quiet one. The one who would take "no" for an answer and she wouldn't. She was the queen of tantrums. The result of that was that I didn't get and she did. My parents wanted peace so to keep her quiet they would give her everything. With me it was easy to say no, I would go to my room and sulk, nothing more.

Later on my mother admitted that she had always felt closer to me. She always had a preference for me and felt guilty for this so compensated for this by giving my sister all that she was asking for. The fact is that she would have given her life for both of us, but she had days when she couldn't deal with my sister. Since then things have changed and they are really close. And of course I do not want to reproduce this as I know how much it can hurt.

Through this and my personal experience as a mum I have learned one thing: it is important to remain as fair as possible in every circumstances, but it is ok to admit that we have days when one of our child is "our favourite" over the other one. Not that we would show it or be unfair, but that we feel closer to one on a particular occasion is not that bad, is it? As long as the same one is not the "favourite" all the time to the detriment of the other, then I think it is ok. Don't you think?

Now that Victor is mobile and started showing his own little personality my love grows stronger everyday and for both of them. I know now that I loved him deeply from the very first day, but the attention I had to pay to Elliott sort of shadowed it a little bit. Now all seems to have fallen into the right places, and it is making me very happy.

I am happy because I didn't have to share my love, I doubled it instead!  

How about you? did you go through that, or on the opposite didn't feel any of these feelings at all?

Photo credit Paul Moody

What should you do when the naughty step doesn't work anymore?

AAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!! 

It feels better... I think...

Elliott is driving me to the edge of sanity. I can't cope anymore. I have had enough of being at the receiving end of his tantrums and watching him ignoring me bluntly. I know he is trying to push the boundaries but at the stage we are at, the boundaries are as far as they can go. I know it is his age or a phase, whatever Supernanny calls it, but no matter how much you are warned about it, you are NEVER ready for it! 

Not only he ignores me, but he started kicking, hitting and pushing. For no reason he will walk to his brother push him and laugh. No matter what I try I don't seem to be getting through to him. I feel like I am constantly having to raise my voice or slap his hand for attention and I hate this. God! I shout so much that I am starting to sound like the next door neighbours!!!  

Oh and just before you say naughty corner, it doesn't work anymore. The naughty corner is fun, he goes by himself. The naughty step is fun, his brother comes to grin at him. The only thing that works is his bedroom on his own, door closed, but I don't want his bedroom to be the naughty place or to be dreaded. 

Take RIGHT NOW for example. I have put him to bed for his afternoon nap. In the past he has never EVER had once got out of bed or fight to go to sleep (unless really unwell), well right now it is the second time that I have to pause and take him back to bed. *

In the last week there hasn't been one day that I haven't ended with a headache and so much frustration it is coming out of my ears and nostrils! Every single evening in the last week, Craig had to deal with their dinner, bath and bedtime because I am so snappy. This man is made of the purest gold. If he wasn't so helpful, I would probably be in a corner of the house rocking back and forth! 

Everyday I wake up full of hope that he will not challenge me as much. Every morning he walks into our room and lights it up with his gorgeous blond her and his little voice whispering "good morning". Thanks to him the first thing I do when I wake up is smile. Then the minute Craig is out of the door for work, it starts. It feels like it is a personal fight, it is between him and me. 

It is so tiring.  

But then when I walk into their room at night, I look at him and every bit of me fills with the most powerful love in the world, stained with the ugliest guilt. I feel guilty for not being able to keep cool, guilty for snapping and guilty for shouting. 

I want my lovely boy back, so what do you do when the naughty step doesn't work anymore? 

*since finishing this post I have visited his room five times and asked him in a rather loud manner to GO BACK TO BED!

Photo Credit Albert Bredenhann