Mad auntie seeking sanity. Derives pleasure from the simple things in life. 30 going on 3!
Sunday, 14 August 2011
Tut, tut, Toby terrible two-toes
Ok, today I'm combining two blogs into one. Lazy, I know, but let me explain...
Yesterday I madly tapped away into my Blackberry while sweating it out on a stationary gym bike (take note lads it is possible to multitask) - until my fat thumb over spilt onto the delete button... And wham-bam-thank-you-fat-thumbed-Sam - 30 minutes of auntie waffle vanished in an instant.
Now I know I'm sad enough to write a blog about my quirky existence - but yesterday I had neither the time, nor the patience to re-write the gibberish. Saturday was all about the Tobymeister.
I was a little apprehensive about our usual mad-auntie-and-nephew-about-town-antics because our Friday night pre warm up drinks went like this...
Over-excited auntie and uncle arrive at Toby Towers. Press the doorbell and hide behind the pillars like a pair of edjiots. 'Ta-Dah' we magically appear to a rapturously impressed two year old.
A monotone, 'Hi Schammy' greets us followed by an I-am-so-pleased-to-see-you 'Hewoooo Uncle Johnny'.
Uncle Johnny - 5, Auntie Schammy -0.
Jealous, moi? Never. After all, J is far more credible to a trains/planes and automobiles obsessed boy. He can fly Boeings and helicopters don't you know..
To cut a long story short. Toby....had a grump on. It's not uncommon at this stage in his life - call it the terrible twos if you like.
We like to believe it's not our cuter-than-cute nephew - but rather some alter ego ghost called Fred - who comes to possess him now and again.
Ok, I fess, Fred was his fathers creation. But I love the theory - so Mark - here's your credit. Daddy M has even started joking about it with him too: 'Right then, who's coming shopping with us today - Toby or Fred.'
We'd all better stop now before we give him a complex! And it's really not that bad either. I'm just exaggerating - like I do. I'm sure every toddler in the country is exactly the same.
So a Toby Tantrum was on Friday's menu - he didn't want to play ball. Tired and moody he insisted we left after just ten minutes of our company (we have that effect on people)
'Go Schammy - he said clutching to Johnny's car keys.'. Everything I asked him was replied with a short and snappy 'no', he hated me - there were tears (nearly from me), but thankfully, no foot stamping!
So what was going through his mind? I have my suspicions:
1.) 'I'm so tired, I just want to go to schleep.'
2.) 'Do you ever stop talking Schammy, end the questions - I'm simply not in the mood.'
3.) 'If I make them go, I get to see the car, put the keys in the ignition and watch the wheels go round.'
4.) All of the above and 'I just want to be on my own.'
God, he sounds like me... And I bet many of you have felt the same way too - be it in work or social situations.
Sadly, I don't have a penchant for watching the wheels go round but sometimes I'd rather be doing something else than the annoying thing I'm currently being forced to do.
And that's just it. As adults we don't have tantrums (or do we secretly?) It's not acceptable is it?
We try to internalise our emotions in a variety of different ways - or bottle them all up.
For children, Tantrums are torture for the parents, but they serve a purpose. It's Toby's little way of coping as he becomes emotionally intelligent and increasingly aware of his feelings - that's all.
Making sense of the world regardless of emotion is hard enough for the most switched on adult let alone a mini- munchkin.
I refuse to take his behaviour personally.
But how do you tame a tantrum, and what's the right way of dealing with one? (Answers on a postcard please).
Fast-forward 12 hours later to Saturday and much to my delight he loves me again. Praise the lord.
Yesterday our mad-about-town antics resumed including wellie boot shopping, playing pretend shops, making pastrami pitta breads for lunch (he has expensive taste) and a visit to 'Cofta coffee.' As Toby calls it (Costa - MMM yummy - I feel a Costa blog brewing).
Lovely day, with a lovely boy - with not a sniff of tantrum in sight. Maybe daddy locked Fred in the bathroom cupboard. Either way we're forever friends again...
Fred - 0, Toby a perfect 10 out of 10
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Next blog: 'Grow your own children.' It's not as mad as it sounds - honest!