Age of Reason

I'm one tiny step away from reaching the end of my tether, and one mammoth step closer to taking a suicidal leap into the fiery depths of (parental) Hades! Because hell, I want to be a diabolical mum!

Pardon the theatrics again. The drama mama in me cannot help rear her flamboyant head. Remember, peranakan blood yada yada yada...? Ok enough.

Lately, I've been consumed with nefarious thoughts towards my cheeky offspring.

You see, she's been acting like a rabid mule - madly stubborn. So in my mind, I've been playing out scenes that involve hitting her head *gleefully* with a skillet to render her unconscious, slinging her over my shoulder, then dropping her like a sack of potatoes infront of her school's frontgate. Leave her to the experts!

But the problem is - school. That IS her problem.

The past 72 hours have been a nightmare where taking her to nursery is concerned.

My poor ears have been subject to screams, yells, wails, howls and yowls of varying decibels. The girl's begged to be left alone, left at home. Her behaviour at the dropoff have invited horrified stares from other mums. Even the principal had to step in, the teachers had to pry her from my ankles. That was lovely day 1. Drama.

(I should not have sent her to school on the day we arrived back in London. But I thought - against better judgement - that by keeping her awake, she'd be able to shake off her jetlag quickly. Deranged is me.)

Day 2 fared no better. She began the waterworks at bathtime. Then came a litany of complaints involving Sebestian calling her 'ugly', classmates throwing things at her and calling her 'impertinent' (!!!), teachers not liking her et cetera. To be honest, I wasn't sure if she was telling the truth but decided that if she was really getting bullied, she'd just have to learn to stand up for herself. But I had a niggling feeling she was fibbing to get herself off the hook. That day, she single-handedly pulled the nursery down, brick by brick, with her screaming.

Day 3 (today). Before she can pull any stunts on me, I sit her down for a MAJOR pep talk. Tell her no amount of tears is going to make Mummy change her mind about school. If she isn't liked at school, no matter, Mummy & Papa love her. Sebestian thinks she's ugly? Poppycock, Mummy thinks she's beautiful, God made her beautiful, so she should ignore other people's comments. I tell her I know she can be brave at school and that' ll make me so proud of her. But, I hastily add that if she REALLY wants to stay at home then she' ll have to stay in her room ALL DAY and be IGNORED. Now, is that what she wants? I then leave her to her thoughts.

That had to be the clincher. Coz 10 minutes later, she walks up to me, lips quivering, blinking back tears, tells me she's sorry for making me upset, asks for a cuddle and promises she will not be difficult at nursery later .

And she wasn't. Huzzah!

Well, I've made myself sleepy writing this long post. My tenses are running all over the place and I am now stuck with no pithy ending.

Just to add...

It must be awfully unsettling for her to come back after such a fun-filled holiday. I'm just glad she finally relented and opened up to reasoning.

How long more will she bend to reasoning? I'm not sure. But I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Hoooooooooooboy.