Want to know how my Sunday is like?
Ever since Figzy discovered that there comes a time every week where mum has an off and Dad goes away to work, she cries to see him going or gone. I haven't set up a tally, but for very long, every Sunday, I take Figzy out of the house (that's around 9:30 a.m.) and we roam the neighbourhood, while her Dad pulls out his car from the parking lot and departs for the day. This routine ensures that we completely skip the "I am crying coz Daddy's gone" activity.
Eventually we land up in a park close to our home, which has a few rides. There are no swings, but a few things that Figzy can now play with without much intervention from me. That's when I get to sit for a while. A family often invites Figzy (and hence me) to play with their kid who is almost the same age as Figzy, and we easily kill an hour or more there.
But us going home is completely Figzy's turf.
When we come back to home "as usual", it is usually around 2 p.m. Then the kid has her lunch, plays in the home. Her Sunday nap is mostly 4 pm to 6 pm.
Yesterday was an unexpected off. I mean I knew that there was an off. But Figzy's daycare lady declared an off too.
Several things went wrong yesterday:
- The weather has been beautiful. It's sunny in the day and rains nuts in the evening. The park is a tub of slush. There are slippery edges around our walking path. Figzy fell no fewer than four times yesterday.
- I have been a mess this week. And I really counted yesterday as an off. I did not expect the heavy duty bombardment from Figzy.
- Figzy does not listen. Her hearing is fine. She just does not listen if she is not interested. So here's a child you keep calling to slow down, or turn back or not climb something, and she will not listen if she does not want to.
- She knows the location to the corner grocery store, and she went in and begged for stuff till I gave in.
- I avoided visiting the family (I have a slightly parasitic feeling about visiting them so often.) and got Figzy to come home by 11:30 a.m.
- She had a tidy meal, pooped, and well got the front door open and went out. No amount of persuasion, or her favourite cartoon (she tells me that it is, but she does not watch it for more than a few minutes) kept her in. I offered her chocolate. She ate it, and left again.
- So I dragged my feet again to hound my kid. By this time, I was already feeling fatigued.
- My child kept up a speed I could not match (And I thought that I must be psychotic to even think - sibling).
- She went back to the park, circled it, and went into our friendly neighbourhood grocery store. (And at this point, I was mentally cursing my husband.)
- I 'lost' Figzy for a few minutes yesterday - the first time this has happened. She came out of the store, but I had not spotted her doing it. When I got up and went into the store, Mrs. M told me she had left.
- I called her name. I heard some kid crying in the distance but it appeared to be boy's voice. I asked a passer-by. Well, the celebrity had been spotted in the badminton court. I indeed found her there.
- I knew that the worst thing I could do was to yell. I was heaving and red. And she was normal, loudly singing 'The Alphabet Song'.
- At this point of time, I was already crying. When I convinced her to leave, she circled the park again and went into the grocery store. Mrs. M handed her a free bar of chocolate. I asked Figzy to please come home. And she told me, No.
- I snatched the chocolate from her hand, and did not stop till we reached the house. That scene was epic. Imagine a wailing two-year-old tailing her mum begging for the chocolate. And the mum not stopping or breaking the walking momentum. The kid fell down, cried more, got up, but mummy did not stop. I reached home, and by this time Figzy was coughing. Her face was flushed, the cheeks were wet, and she looked at me like I was a tyrant. I closed the door. I let Figzy have the chocolate. And she finally went for her nap about 10 minutes later. It was a little over 3 p.m. then.
- Figzy woke up around 5:45. She woke up bright and perky. Asked for her slippers, and pointed "outside". It was raining, and I set up a different latch (the top most one of the door, which I usually do not like) and ensured she could not step outside. There was crying again.
- DH came home by 8 p.m. and I was extremely relieved.
Yesterday was Thursday. Sunday is around the corner. I am anxious that I am set up for this whole routine again.
I dread Sundays. I just feel like I am being washed away by a flood.
Oh, *hugs*. I remember last summer and fall dreading pretty much every weekend where we didn't travel -- we went on trips 3/4 weekends a month precisely so I didn't have to face the prospect of being at home with Gwen for two days straight (and that's even with dad around to help out sometimes).
ReplyDeleteI hope things get better soon.
I know who's in charge in your house! ;)
ReplyDeleteThere are days when it is extremely wearying to be around your child. That's just how it is. You set boundaries and she pushes against them to see how firm they are. It's perfectly normal to find it tiring and undesirable. The twos are terrible. But you'll survive.
Also, moms must sometimes be tyrants - it is in her best interests to do (most of) the things you tell her to do. It's not like you're arbitrarily mean for no reason. But you'd better toughen your shell, because in 3 years, she'll be telling you how mean you are. For asking her to do evil stuff like...pick up her clothes or not talk back.
Whatever else you might be, bored is surely not one of those things. Or likely to ever make it on the long list. Figzy, she is FIRE. :-))
ReplyDeleteThat said, I can totally understand how you feel. The thing about having two of them fireballs is that once you reach the limit of tiredness, no matter what happens, you cannot get more tired than that. Which is good. In the bad sense. Or viceversa. So don't think that a sibling would make you even more tired and feeling helpless. Most probably you will reach new levels of inventivity, if anything, because being tired yet having to entertain small crazed rabbits makes for very interesting ideas to come forth from your own brain. Some of them are magnificent, others are truly stupid. But you would make it through.
The thing is that every day that passes brings you farther away from the lunacy of toddlerdom. And it get easier in some ways, but sadly, more difficult in others - like trying to explain why older children are not interested in playing with younger children, even though the latter really, really want to play with those older snobs.