Three year olds say the funniest things. I find it adorable how Babe merges two words into one, or uses a single word in place of a sentence.
Prime example: “Let’s do this first-do, idea?”
Translation = “Lets do this first, is that a good idea?”
Then there is repetition of phrases I have said to her, in a ‘right back at ya’ style…
“Mummy don’t talk d me like that”
And this corker – “You shouldn’t say bloody hell mummy” (I think she’s heard me telling daddy off for swearing a few too many times). In my defence, that day we had spent ages getting ready to go out, and then baby Boyo threw up all down my top.
Not forgetting the phrases that make her sound like a wanna be Jessie J…
“Talk d me mummy, talk d me louder”
From listening to Babe it seems to me that I say darlin far too much, maybe it’s the west country influence.
“Alright darlin, I’m here” said to baby Boyo when crying and I’m not immediately available.
Plus the stark grammar issues:
“I do it, my big girl”
And finally the plea for me to quieten the baby:
“Mummy mummy, boyo wants more milk.”
What about your three year olds? Have you got any classic funnies to share?
I’ve got one very hungry hippo, this boy won’t stop drinking. Pretty much every hour around the clock he wants some num nums. Never before have I been so grateful for cosleeping. As you might imagine, I in turn am one hungry mama. This morning I woke up feeling like I hadn’t been fed in days. To top it, because of the morning mayhem, I didn’t have chance to eat my giant bowl of porridge before charging out the door to prescool with baby on boob and three year old in tow.
Why is it whenever you are late little people take the chance to dawdle? “Mummy look at this”, “mummy I’ve dropped my cardigan”. This is the blasted cardigan she refused to put on under her coat before we left, that consequently was dragged along the pavement for a large part of the walk to school.
Back to baby Boyo on his growth spurt. “Oh you’re feeding” exclaimed one mother as I thanked her for holding open the gate. “You always seem to be feeding.” It really has felt like it for the last day. She’d seen me in the park after school yesterday nursing baby Boyo while racing around pushing swings, lifting my daughter on and off the bouncy whizzy thing etc.
And so much for not being a zombie mum…I think I might be halfway there today. I’m so thankful that this is Babe’s full day in preschool. If I’m lucky I might cram in a nap before picking her up at 3pm.
Over the last month Babe (nearly three), has suddenly got so much more confident and willfull (aka little sod).
This takes parenting patience with two young children to another level. I wonder how people in the childcare profession get on without going totally nuts?! Maybe because they’re not their own kids, and as a result it doesn’t get to them so much (like a pride thing)? Perhaps cause they get to hand them back at the end of the day and don’t have to endure the hell that is bath and bed time (oh how I hate that time of day).
I adore the fact that Babe has a new found confidence and knows her own mind but I wonder if I’d have rather kept my shy little fairly amenable girly for a bit longer.
A prime example – getting in the bath has become the kind of negotiating challenge that I’d never encountered before (except with one of my old german bosses who was amazing at bringing you to his way of thinking without you realising it till afterwards). In all seriousness I think when I do go back to work my negotiating skills are going to be so much better. At the same time, I might be more likely to back down on many more occasions, choosing to select my battles more carefully. I confess I am using bribery with the bath “you can have a farmer sweet if you get in the bath now”. The problem is that I’m still saying ‘now’ 20 minutes later, when I’m spitting the words out between my teeth and pawing at the ground in an attempt to dig a hole in the carpet to retreat into.
Another example, this morning when baking cappuccino cupcakes for her second birthday party in three days. Babe was determined to add the vanilla essence, which resulted in a tussle over the bottle and a potent amount being sloshed into the Kenwood. Could have been worse, like the addition of garam masala to the carrot cake last year.
I’m struggling a little to be honest…
When Babe also does things specifically to be naughty, what now? I’m moving away from the idea of the naughty step, she knows it’s naughty, what’s isolating her gonna do to improve the situation but exacerbate it? So finding gentle disapljne approaches is now my new challenge. I’ve got Alfie Kohns book on Unconditional Parenting, but what else should I be asking Santa (aka Amazon) for?