It was so easy when she was this small.
But somehow, this tiny little bundle has magically transformed into an 18 month old. An 18 month old who knows what she wants. An 18 month old who knows how to push all her mother’s buttons.
It’s a cliche, the whole “they don’t come with an instruction manual” thing. But that’s all I’ve thought about today.
I’ve been dreaming of a secret book, revealing the inner workings of a non-toddling toddler’s mind.
This book would, obviously, chastise me for losing my temper and raising my voice in the direction of my child this afternoon, as she had yet another tantrum at the sound of that so hated word “No”. And, clearly, this book would instruct myself and the (self-proclaimed) Northern Love Machine to never EVER disagree about how to handle a situation – especially in front of our child.
But that bloody book doesn’t exist. So while I scrabble around in search of the magic answers, I’ll just have to continue getting it all wrong.
And if you know where the secret book resides, feel free to let me know. I need all the help I can get.