I had an absolutely awful day with Danielle yesterday. Absolutely horrid.
If our neighbours downstairs kept a logbook or diary of sorts, their entry would read:
"That scary SAHM upstairs is trying to murder her child... again."
And they wouldn't be far from the truth.
The long and short of it was there were screaming matches, wild threats, and wielding of the cane at several points throughout the day.
A Day in the Life of Little Miss Stubborn 9am - Danielle wakes up unusually late. Try to get her ready at breakneck speed for our 'mummy date' with Beth and Scarlett. Refuses to put shoes on. Tears clean sheets off my recently replenished toilet roll into the bowl whilst I was hastily getting her food bag ready. Run like mad to meeting point. Am 8 mins late. Danielle has snot as long as longevity noodles dribbling down her nose. Not a pretty sight.
930am~11am- The catch up with Beth is sketchy. Danielle is extremely aggressive towards Scarlett - demanding to have Scarlett's biscuits, and REFUSING to share her own. In fact, whenever I proffer a nibbly to Scarlett, Danielle knocks it off Scarlett's hands! And she will NOT let go off Scarlett's Minnie Mouse! I cower in embarrassment. Where's all this aggression coming from? Nursery? We go to the library so that the girls have more 'play space' . No such luck. They start pulling at books instead. Beth and I roll eyes in unison.
1230noon - Nursery. Screams and clings onto legs again. Help.
3pm - Pick her up. Smile soon turns to scorn when she REFUSES to sit in the pram. Shela has to offer her a cookie before she relents. Apologise profusely for the ruckus she made outside Lochinvar. Scurry home.
330pm - At Tesco's. Demands to get out of pram after brushing off cookie crumbs. Uses feet to hinder wheels from moving smoothly. The nerve! I do not relent. Instead, charge round supermarket like a headless chicken, grabbing items off shelves while cursing and swearing under breath.
4pm~9pm - 5 hours of pure nightmare. First, refuses to come out of the bath. Then screams to be taken out for a poo. Unfortunately, business is 'unfinished' and some remnant poo ends up bobbing up and down alongside Mr Whale. I bathe her all over again, then dettol the bathtub. Does not allow me to brush her teeth. Clams mouth shut. Then when I forcefully pry them open, tries to create dents on toothbrush. Thankfully milk teeth not strong enough to do so. Ha! Refuses to get changed. Runs half-naked around the house evading my grasp. Neighbours experience mild earthquake whilst 'cat and mouse' chase ensues overhead. Give her a pear but she only chews, then spits bits out all over the sofa spread. I read to her but give up halfway, exasperated from the day's events.
By 9pm, I'm exhausted. Despite the fact she's still awake, I crawl into bed, brandishing the white flag. After mooching around for a couple of minutes, she too, submits to her own crankiness and falls into a peaceful sleep.
Hmph!I'm almost sorry I'm making my daughter sound like a mini She-Devil. Perhaps all 2 YOs have horns they're dying to show off?
I know there'll always be BAD days like this. But barely surviving them is...well, the thing that kills?