I hear you mum, hear hear…when you have endless tasks at hand. Preparing the dinner, sorting the laundry, cleaning the spillages, tidying the endless mess, changing soiled nappies, washing bottoms all with the added wackiness: The whiner at hand ALL the frikkin time!! (This happened straight after school one day)
“let’s play ludo…can we? Can we play it now…play it noooow”
(Me) not yet sweetheart…
(me) we’ve just come in from school!?, change your uniform, let me go to the loo
noooooo lets play NOW, let’s plaaaaaaay (aaaaaaaaarrrrrggghhh waaaaaaaaaah)
(me) I said not yet, you’ll have to wait
(after toilet business)
I want cereal, can I have cereal, can I have cereal X10 noooooooooowwwww
(Whilst eating cereal) let’s play ludo, play ludo, play ludo X10 nooooow
(me) Can you finish eating first, can’t you see I’m feeding your little brother
(After eating, we play the dreaded ludo)
(me) Ok, the Games finished you came first and I was second yaaaay
Nooo let’s play again, can we play again, again again X10….
(me) Play with your brother
Nooo you play
Right this may not be 100% accurate and the ‘X10’ may well be an exaggeration, I might have said much more in between, throwing in some oooh aaaargghs but hopefully you get the gist!
Seriously… am I the only one with a kid like this, (sometimes it seriously feels like that!), the kid who bottles up all his feelings, only to fizz it out at home. It isn’t a pretty sight. I don’t think I know any other child who is difficult like that honestly, I could schmoose, shoulder-to-shoulder with a mum who goes through the same shi* day in and day out, in dealing with a sulking sucker who ruins it for everyone else at home. I could join that social club: “living with whacky whiners”, we’ll name it that, wonderfully oxymoronic, for a bit of sanity…eh?
I don’t look forward to the school runs. The minute he sets foot out, some form of whinging and murmuring under the breath will begin. I’ve read about the whole attachment parenting, and love-bombing and a whole host of other things…trust me I do it all, I HUG him, squeeze the life out of him -not literally- before I get lectured about the damaging effects of corporal punishment. Home-schooling is out of the question, before being told about all the wonders of it! (no hate, it isn’t for me at this point in time) I lend an ear, listen to his every word, cook up countless conversations; yet the stew will bubble up and burst over the tiniest flame. Cry it out sweety, but not to the point where your tears flood the emotion out of us. Play-flight with your little brothers, (I did it too and felt powerful throwing mighty-morphin punches at the horrid boys) but take it easy son, it isn’t a wrestling rink. Where do we set the limit? How long do we have to endure? Lord help us. I could do with a hug and a prayer xxx
Whilst it is lovely being told by your child’s teacher that your cookie is well-behaved and a very rule-abiding friendly child, caring and often smiling with social skills that might be well beyond his little years. I would however, love for the world to know how much it takes for many of us at home building up the wreckage every night: the kids who emotionally drains us to fill their cups, the kids who push boundaries at home only to practice restraining themselves outside. The kids who wear a friendly patient façade only to take it off at home and release their inner beast.
In hindsight, perhaps that’s a good thing, that they can have an emotional outlet at home, disconnect and recharge, be a privilege for their teachers, an asset in their class, perhaps more so than the trouble-maker who makes it terrible for 29 other kids at school. Perhaps I could do with being an emotional rut for now and tolerate the fizzy outburst here and there.
But whilst I’m at it, I hope I have struck a chord with yummy mummies out there, who can relate and moan with us, I’m happy to lend an ear. Xxxx
(The middle easy going one, proud to say we do have the best of both 🙂