Thursday evening finds The Little Mumma with eyes hanging out of head. Oh dear, I am tired. For, you see, I celebrated the anniversary of my birth yesterday and in typical Little Mumma style, I went crazy and had TWO WINES. Count them, a big old TWO. I drank sugary cordial and had two Panadol before bed and still, pulled up dusty. Hmmmm, The Little Mumma has a baby face but her body is feeling every one of those 34 years……
So, what randomness does a hung over Little Mumma mind impart?
– I simply cannot stand the habit of scraping 'leftovers' back into the jar. Example; "Oh dear, I have inadvertently scooped out too much Vegemite but I'm only discovering this after I have been smearing it on my toast. I know! I'll scrape it onto the rim of the Vegemite jar because I just know someone is going to want to use pre-loved, crumb-filled yeast spread some time in the future." No. No, someone is NOT going to fucking want to do any such thing. In fact, someone hates your guts.
- The above rule also applies to butter, peanut butter, cream cheese and frankly, everything else IN THE WORLD. I don't want your "whoops, too much!" bits. I really, really don't.
– People who stand at the fridge and drink from the bottle make me equally as sick as the depraved sickos mentioned above.
– Oh and clean your knife in between using it on different stuff. B, I'm looking at you right now. Because if I find peanut butter or jam on the block of cheese one more time, I will leave you – and not take the kids with me! It's bad enough that I know about your sick little sandwich combos, it's not okay for me to deal with smeary little reminders.
– Is it just me or does being hung over make me bitchy?
– Don't answer that, B.
– I wonder how 34-year-olds without kids celebrate their birthdays?
– I got so much birthday love on Facebook, I felt like the cool kid at school. Social networking is ace. Note to self: friend EVERYBODY and next year will be a fucking extravaganza
– B was dressing Zee once and I noticed he had the singlet on inside out. I pointed it out and then kept going with whatever I was doing. When I returned, Zee was dressed. I asked if B had put the singlet on the right way. He said no. It was no big deal. And Zee so hates to be dressed/undressed. So I let it go…………….ha! As if. Those tiny seams at the shoulders would have driven me mad ALL DAY. You know I fixed it. Tell me you wouldn't have felt a similar compulsion!
– Major reason I am currently loving LD: I was eating birthday cake. LD asked to try it please. I gave him a tiny sliver of icing only (egg allergy alert!) to which he replied, "I can't eat it, Mumma. Too yucky. It's too yucky." Kid who can't eat cake is good, kid who doesn't like cake is AWESOME!
– If I eat anymore cake, I am going to be sick.
– I want need a cleaner.
– Daylight savings is messing with me – as if my precious sleep could withstand any further upheaval
There endeth RMTT #5.
And now, the question. A serious one. My kid, LD, the 3-year-old with the attitude, is in trouble A LOT. He is as contrary as they come. If I want him to do a thing, he has to do the other. If he followed a request the first time I requested it, I would fall over and die! It would be just that shocking. So I am reduced to screaming banshee Mumma, cajoling, bargaining, begging, pleading, threatening Mumma. Bash my head against the freaking wall Mumma. Suffice it to say, I am not the mumma I want to be. So.
The question. How much slack should one cut a 3-year-old? I know he knows right from wrong. I know he understands me. But when the direction I am giving him goes completely against what he wants to do, how capable is he, in all his 3-year-old wisdom, of resisting the urge to follow his compulsion? He is loving towards his family but how much does he really 'get' empathy at three years old? In short, am I expecting too much from my beautiful and willful child? Or is he, as I often suspect, the bad seed?
Thanks in advance to my fellow mummas. The Little Mumma loves YOU!