Tag Archives | toddlers

parenting through the pink phase

Right now my children optimise every gender stereotype known to toddlerdom.

Willow (3.5 years old) lives and breathes sparkly pink, princesses, unicorns and Barbie. Jimmy (2 and 2 months) is obsessed with cars, trucks and motorbikes, as well as head butting, dominating and body slamming any person smaller than him.

It’s not something Ryan or I ever encouraged (the bullying of babies obviously, but also the pink craze).

If I had my way W’s wardrobe would be made up of paired down separates in grey and neutral tones. There would be no sparkly Barbie shoes, or Barbie anything for that matter.

When she was tiny I dressed her in navy and grey, bold in the face of my mother’s disapproval. But since she’s been able to vocalise her preferences it’s been pink all the way. Initially I pushed back until one day my mum said, “Darling, just enjoy it. Soon she’ll be dressed from head-to-toe in black leather with studs in her nose and you’ll wish you had enjoyed these sweet days”.

With that image firmly in mind, I have decided to embrace the pink. Today she went to school in bright pink ‘Hello Kitty’ onesie pyjamas and I’m cool with it…

The fact that my son won’t wear long sleeves, despite rapidly dropping autumnal temperatures and a wardrobe of cute winter stuff, is another matter.

He rejects any attempt to insert his thrashing, writhing body into warm clothing of any kind. No form of bribery or coersion works and I’m wondering if I must resign myself to a snotty, shivering baby throughout winter? I could weep at the thought.

If there is a way of overcoming this aversion to jerseys I’d love to know. Any tips or advice most welcome. The pink however, I am resigned to. For now!

Yours in motherhood,

— Emily

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POSTED IN: Confessions

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night night, sleep tight

My kids are completely crazy about their dad, but at night only mama will do. It’s one of those great joys of being a mother. They want you when they are grumpy, sore, tired or in the middle of the night – any other time, when they are happy and full of beans and just want to play and have fun, then it’s all daddy, daddy, daddy.

So the average night in my household goes thus…

At about 12am Willow comes shuffling into our room, she’s clutching on average 5 to 6 of her favourite stuffed toys (and sometimes a book and/or Barbie) and she wants to get into our bed. She always comes to my side and just stands there until my subconscious wrenches me out of sleep and, against my better judgement, haul her into the bed. I let her lie there for a bit until her wriggling, coughing, elbows and general presence drives me to tears. I shove her further and further over to her father’s side of the bed, but he never seems to notice, so I scoop her up with her menagerie of stuffed creatures and take her back to her bed.

I then lie for a bit willing myself back to sleep, when at any time between 1am and 4am Jimmy starts to cry. His new MO is to dramatically let forth blood curdling screams that are so high pitched they send us leaping out of bed, hearts pounding, rushing around to warm up bottles, check nappy and administer Calpol before rocking, soothing and generally praying for him to calm down and go back to sleep. Sometimes he does. Sometimes he doesn’t. It’s all very touch and go at the moment. Is it teeth, we wonder? Is it bad dreams or a pain somewhere, or is it just the enjoyment of cuddles and warm milk at some ghastly hour of the morning? We will never know and because it could be the former there is no way we feel we can take a hard line with him. He has us between a rock and a hard place and something tells me he knows it.

Once J is soothed and quiet, we’ll creep back into bed and try to defrost and get back into sleep mode, despite the frazzled nerves. Then, timed perfectly to coincide with my pulse returning to normal, my heart pounds me into full wakefulness as I hear the familiar shuffle of Willow and Co coming back across the landing.

It’s a circus. Our nights are as busy as our days and despite the numerous books, blog posts and friendly advice we have absorbed we can never agree on the right course of action. We play good cop, bad cop. Are they scared, or sore or master manipulators? I guess that’s the question every parent asks at 4am, as they stand cold and exhausted, yelling at each other over their shrieking child.

Amazing though, that after such a night, they wake up in the morning, smile and I feel like I love them so much I could die. All the sins of the night before forgotten (theirs, not mine. I beat myself up for being the worst, most impatient mother on earth for at least 15 minutes). This motherhood thing is not for the faint-hearted!

The perfect post for this amazing, inspirational pic of Drew Barrymore. Love her.

The perfect post for this amazing, inspirational pic of Drew Barrymore. Love her.

— Emily

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POSTED IN: Confessions

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rainy day fun

If you’re in need of some fun, new rainy day activities… try these. Bailey loved being my little helper and the end result has supplied her with hours of fun. It’s such a simple exercise and although we couldn’t find a heart-shaped muffin pan, the circles were still a hit.

1. Gather all your old broken crayons and get your toddler to help you peel off the papers and separate them into colour groups

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2. Fill your muffin pan

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3. Put in the oven at 180°C until melted, then leave until completely cooled before you pop them out

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Note: Tinkerbell started helping me out, then Snow White stepped in

— Liza

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POSTED IN: Life

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