My Toddler Hates Me And I Know Why
After a particularly evil night of being repeatedly poked in the face, kicked in the stomach, and worst of all, forced to watch Peppa Pig non-stop for 3 hours, I've had time to linger & think about the past month or so with my toddler (what else is there to do when you're gradually losing your mind and clinging on to the edge of your sanity at 3am?). Here are the understandable reasons that my toddler hates me..
Because I can't do magic.
A couple of days ago, I gave my toddler a snack in the form of a raspberry fruit bake bar to which he gratefully accepted. Unfortunately, he dropped it and it snapped in half, but no harm done (5 second rule)! But then he ran to the sofa flailing his arms, let out an almighty scream and started batting at my cushions with his fists. I tried in vain to reason with him, to outline the pro's of this situation, he now had 2 bars instead of 1. Once that failed, I tried to place each piece steadily on top of the other, but no, the crying persisted and didn't stop for 5 whole minutes, at which point he realised that I couldn't zap the two back together, picked them up and ate them as if nothing had even happened.
Because I make towers with his wooden building blocks.
As a lovely Easter gift, my Auntie decided to get Archie some colourful wooden building blocks. He loves those blocks. Every morning, he strolls over to that box of blocks and lovingly stares at me whilst he pours them all over the floor, then proceeds to ignore them for the next couple of hours until I decide to tidy them away, at which point he decides he wants to play with them and pours them all over the floor. Repeat. I'll admit it, sometimes I think, 'hey, I'll make a tower,' until my dreams are cruelly dashed by the likes of Archie stomping over and destroying it before I get a chance to place more than 2 blocks on top of one another.
Because I'm not rich.
Occasionally (all the time), my toddler likes to attempt breaking my things and doesn't take kindly to it when I stop him bashing himself on the head (or my head) with the wireless keyboard or drooling and sucking on my phone for long enough that Apple would deem it water-damaged.
Because I ate an ice-cream.
There was an almighty roar the other day when I took a lick of my Cornetto - at first I thought the apocalypse had begun (bound to happen in the first 5 free minutes a Mummy gets to herself to finally sit on her bum with a delicious treat) - no, another irrational toddler tantrum. So, if I simply offer my toddler a bite, he'll calm down, right? Negative. I had ruined MY ice-cream and it was unacceptable.
Because I was too lazy to get a change of clothes so I fashioned him a dress out of a blanket.
Ok, this one is bad. After a particularly long morning of heavy wetting (through everything), I decided to fashion Archie a beautiful dress out of his M&M blanket to keep him warm. I think he makes a delightful little girl.
Because I won't let him prance off of the top stair and fall to his almost certain death.
(or to a moderate-severe injury)
My toddler is constantly wanting to practice his (in)ability to fly, whether it be off of the sofa, the toybox, the table and most of all, the stairs. Unfortunately, Mummy is constantly trying to stifle his true calling in life by catching him and installing those blasted stairgates. What he doesn't realise is that Mummy clearly loves him because for no one else would she stub her toe 17 times a day.
So, I'd like to send a sincere and heartfelt apology to my 15 month old; Mummy loves you despite all of the 'mean' things you think she does..
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