So its 4:45 on Saturday afternoon and Thanks Master Hs spontaneous case of narcolepsy, which he experienced during Ben and Holly’s magical kingdom, I finally have the opportunity to sit down and write the blog I promised myself would be a fortnightly occurrence and is now heading to the one month mark.
Why is my son in bed so early you ask? Well to explain that we must go right back to the beginning of the day, right back to 4am this morning. (It is not uncommon for Master H to start his day at 4am. One to be affected by the moon cycle, like a teeny tiny werewolf, about two or three mornings a month Master H bounds from bed at this time and expects the rest of the house to rise to the day with the same enthusiasm. This is difficult to do as the sun is only just starting to make an appearance. Also because on these days, generally speaking, the everyday challenges of Mother hood are pushed to a whole new level, as Master H is more challenging and more determined to push every boundary placed in front of him. Is it due to lack of sleep or some other lunar influence? I do not know.)
This morning the drama started with breakfast
Determined to let Master H have a sense of control over his life I have always offered two choices for whatever decisions need to be made. This usually works very well to curb the tantrums.
“Would you like porridge or toast for breakfast”
“Biscuit?’ Head tilted to the side, all cute.
“Sorry Hon you can’t have a biscuit for breakfast. Toast or porridge?”
“Biscuit” Bottom lip out, still trying for cute
“Biscuits are a treat, not breakfast food. Maybe some fruit?”
Foot Stomp, hands on hips “BISCUIT”
“Hon, listen to Mummy. You are not having a biscuit for breakfast”
“BIS…..CUIT!!!!!!” All traces of cute gone.
There, before me, stands a very strong willed individual who is going to fight for his right to eat biscuit.
Trying for distraction from the biscuit drama, I start to unload the dishwasher. My usually compliant kitchen hand, today decides that the dishwasher has not cleaned the dishes to his satisfaction and insists on placing everything I take out back into the dishwasher.
I then proceed to the washing machine where Master H very helpfully loads in like colours (at least one male in the family knows the importance of not mixing colours) Happy for the cooperation we continue on. We then take the previously washed whites out to the deck to dry. There, then proceeds a similar dance as with the dishwasher, where all clothes put on dryer are removed and taken back to the laundry. Eventually Master H can be persuaded to ride his bike while I finish hanging the washing. While he is still distracted I sneak back inside to unload the dishwasher. I am all of a sudden aware of the quietness. I go out onto the deck to discover Master H has thrown all the whites off the deck and our garden now resembles a piece of environmental art. (What is it with this kid and the deck?)Some stern words follow but I am dealing with a sleep deprived two year old. What hope do I really have?
As the naked tornado follows me from room to room (all attempts to get him dressed also failed miserably) more chaos ensues, before I finally throw my hands up in the air and proclaim that the house can stay messy.
Now the next part is slightly personal but paramount to the story.
I was sitting on the toilet enjoying the peace (it’s amazing the places I find serenity these days) when I hear little stompy feet coming up the stairs and in comes my naked little monkey, with a bag of popcorn he has pilfered from the cupboard. Up he jumps onto my lap and passes me back a piece of popcorn then wraps his arm around my neck before jumping off and passing me some toilet paper.
And there, on the toilet, I have a glimpse of clarity.
“What does it matter if the house is a mess today, clearly Master H is bored out of his teeny tiny ware wolf brain. So we pack up and leave the mess of the morning behind us.
We go to the beach, play on the swings and have such a lovely day. With every giggle and smile the dramas of the morning fade away.
I sit now with a glass of red and a smile on my face. While tomorrow will probably be similar with Master Hs early retirement resulting in another early morning, I vow that tomorrow I will stress less and pick my battles. Maybe I will even let him have a biscuit for breakfast.