One of those days
Having an 'off' day today. Full of doubts and questions and feeling a tad down.
Having half a dozen people tell you you've still got post natal depression, within the space of a week and independantly from each other kind of makes you sit back and think.
And D is a nightmare. Wanted to do some workbook stuff today - I said, ok, but only if you want to. We did 2 pages each of 'maths' and 'english' last week, and that's all she has to do a week. Then she sits there with the book in front of her and starts moaning about how it's too hard, etc etc... So I tell her go do something else.
"But I want to do this."
"So pick up your pencil."
"But it's soooo difficult."
"So go play Brio with T."
"But I want to finish this page."
Tears, tantrums.
I point out which words to circle and where to write them underneath.
D stares at page for another 5 minutes whilst I make a cup of tea and eat something full of refined carbohydrates.
"We're going shopping in half an hour, D," I tell her. "Why don't you go find me a hair brush instead?"
More tears.
"Sweetheart, you don't have to do your workbook if you don't want to. In fact, if they're so awful, we'll just throw them all away and do something completely different next week. How's that?"
"Noooo, Mommy, no, don't throw them away! They're my favourite thing in all the world. I love my books!"
At this point, Mommy retires to the kitchen with tea, Classic FM and a fervent wish she still smoked. After checking the time, she also figured 9.10am was too early for a glass of port.
Having half a dozen people tell you you've still got post natal depression, within the space of a week and independantly from each other kind of makes you sit back and think.
And D is a nightmare. Wanted to do some workbook stuff today - I said, ok, but only if you want to. We did 2 pages each of 'maths' and 'english' last week, and that's all she has to do a week. Then she sits there with the book in front of her and starts moaning about how it's too hard, etc etc... So I tell her go do something else.
"But I want to do this."
"So pick up your pencil."
"But it's soooo difficult."
"So go play Brio with T."
"But I want to finish this page."
Tears, tantrums.
I point out which words to circle and where to write them underneath.
D stares at page for another 5 minutes whilst I make a cup of tea and eat something full of refined carbohydrates.
"We're going shopping in half an hour, D," I tell her. "Why don't you go find me a hair brush instead?"
More tears.
"Sweetheart, you don't have to do your workbook if you don't want to. In fact, if they're so awful, we'll just throw them all away and do something completely different next week. How's that?"
"Noooo, Mommy, no, don't throw them away! They're my favourite thing in all the world. I love my books!"
At this point, Mommy retires to the kitchen with tea, Classic FM and a fervent wish she still smoked. After checking the time, she also figured 9.10am was too early for a glass of port.
posted by Kris | 9:17 am
2 Comments:
Blimey kids are SO contrary aren't they?! :) Did you give into the bottle of port in the end?
(((hugs))) I recognise that situation, although it's not the port that I wish I could reach for ;)
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