Since I took my ‘oath’ to being a committed stay at home mom, where every day would be filled with scheduled educational activities for my little tot, stimulating her young brain, introducing her to skill building games whilst seeing the joy and amazement in her eyes as she looked up at her mother with wonderment thinking “wow mama how did you do that? ” so I could pat myself on the shoulder and feel good about my mothering skills. Reveling in the fact that my decision to stay at home was making a big difference in my daughter’s life. Yes, I was a good..nay great mom. But seriously… days like what I just described are far fewer than I thought they would be. I could probably count them on my fingers. Most days, I am actually just trying to steal some time to sit down and have that non existent ‘quiet’ hour. For the most part I suppose all toddlers, or at least mine so far is fairly self-entertained. She knows where her toys are and has had a passion for books since birth, so is often sitting in a corner somewhere reading (looking at pictures really but I swear she does it with such concentration it amazes me). However, her ‘corners’ are usually about 2 feet from me…WHEREVER I AM! She can be doing her thing, but her thing has to be near me otherwise all hell breaks loose. If I am in the kitchen, she finds a corner dangerously close to the oven. If I am in the bathroom, she is often found sitting right across from the toilet. I long ago gave up on the idea of any privacy. Who needs a book to pass the time, when all I have to do is look up and find my daughter giving me a reassuring nod as if to say “it’s ok mama, take your time, you’re doing good”. Who is potty training whom?
That is another thing. Ever since she became potty trained, I have had to watch her like a hawk for her ‘pee dance’ because sometimes my little madam gets so engrossed in playing that she holds it right till the last minute, and we may have had some ‘accidents’. Goes on her mother (sheepish grin- no wait not the accident part…errr no ..maybe? listen YOU try popping out a kid and see what happens to bladder control!!). And what is with her having to go ALL THE TIME. Again, goes on her mother (small bladders are hereditary apparently). So if I am not constantly cleaning up after those little corners of disaster hit play area all over the apartment or dropping everything to take her to the toilet, there really does not seem to be enough time for me to SANELY schedule those oh so amazing activities.
Today I realized, that as much as I get frustrated cooped up in a tiny condo most days (again my own fault I really can get lazy about getting out). She equally gets as frustrated, and just wants someone to do things with her. How did I realize this? After she discovered her ‘Banshee Cry’. It is the shriekiest kind of scream that hits your ear drum in such a way as only to trigger my ‘rage’ button. I can’t take that scream, especially in the morning. I seriously lose it. But after gathering some composure, breathing in and out, I took a moment to think about it and of course realized, man she is bored as hell and this is her seeking attention. I know, took me long enough, but sometimes mama just don’t wanna think about anything. Mama brain needs time off. Anyhow, finally coming to the subject of this blog post, I held my little girl’s hand, took her to her official play room (the den) and asked her if she would like to colour together. She beamed at me as if she had been waiting all day for just that. We merrily sat down and got out the colouring book and crayons to which my ever so polite child said ‘thank you mama’ and began our colouring. After a few minutes I realized I was the only one colouring as she watched me, handed me the crayons and instructed what colours to use. I was like…”wait a minute, what’s going on, I thought we were colouring together?”. She sweetly looks at me and says ‘yes mama we are colouring together, now you colour Dora blue’ and hands me the blue crayon. She tricked me, that little %^*&8. I tried to explain to her how fun it would be to colour together, to no avail. And if I stopped colouring to allow her to colour first, that banshee cry would rear it’s ugly head.
# Manipulation. Grr. I begrudgingly dropped my head and continued colouring, feeling like a prisoner to my daughter’s prison guard persona about to smack my head with her baton if I did not comply. At some point I looked up to find her entertaining herself further by doing this.
So much for our colouring together. Sigh. Well it was a start. Round one goes to the lil devil toddler. Tomorrow is another day. Let’s see who manipulates who. Muahaha. But I have a feeling you and I both know I will end up being the monkey at her circus for her sheer entertainment. Ah the things we do for the love of our spawn.