December, 2021
Bit of a jump in time – apologies for that. I clearly forgot about doing any writing for about 2 years. Oops.
Fucking toddlers, am I right?
I’ve only been parenting for three years and the word ‘mum’ has been the cause of so much utterly stunning, gaping, love-filled gooeyness that it breaks your heart and then makes it all over again. And yet that one, tiny, innocuous, 3-letter word is also the source of teeth-grindingly annoying, nails-on-a-chalkboard, shivers-down-your-spine irritation due to the sheer repetition of its use.
Seriously. He just sits there and says ‘hey mum’ on repeat. Most of the time he doesn’t even appear to actually want my attention. Wait. I take that back. That’s not true. I think he is under the impression that he has my attention all of the time. I live with a constant stream of ‘hey mum’ followed by some inane comment about his current activity. (Inane comment? Your 3 year old’s inane comment? Jesus Christ woman the world is completely new to him and he wants to share every astounding second of it with you. Maybe try graciously sharing in that journey with him? Just a thought…) Sure, but also I’m fucking tired and he wants to show me one more time how he parks his cars. Parks them! He doesn’t even, oh gosh, I don’t know, crash them for the tiniest bit of excitement. No, no…He drives them in a very orderly manner and then parks them in rows. And then one will pull out, very sensibly, drive up to a new spot and then bloody well park again! Thrilling stuff.
Also, I know I have mentioned this before, but I just wanted to say (again) that I know it is not correct grammar to start a sentence with ‘and’, but as this is my whinge diary, you can all just fuck right off, cos the bad grammar is staying. GrammAR? GrammER? AR. Just googled it. Grammar: the whole system and structure of language. Grammer: the incorrect spelling of grammar.
Anyway, my kid’ll be sitting somewhere parking his cars and he’ll be like ‘hey mum, did you see that?’ Or the crowd favourite: ‘hey mum, watch this’, or maybe ‘hey mum, I can put the lego here and then the car drives up there.’ It’s just ‘hey mum’, ‘hey mum’, ‘hey mum’ over and over and over again. There are even a bunch of ‘hey mum’s’ followed by nothing. Silence. So, I confess, I’ve gotten used to not really needing to answer to my name every time it is uttered. Or listen even. It’s like he’s talking to himself but every sentence starts with ‘hey mum’.
So of course it follows that when he actually wants my attention, Ie. when he needs an answer and he realises he doesn’t have my attention because said answer is not forthcoming, I get the more insistent ‘Mu-um!’ You know the one I mean. The two-tone one. We’ve all used it. It starts in a higher tone, slides down a tone quickly and then slides back up again for emphasis. I probs have about a half second after it before the bark: ‘MUM!’ So I walk the three steps into the next room, because he has no idea I’m not even in the same room as him, which admittedly is fair because we live in a tiny shoebox that I like to (affectionately) call our ‘mouldy cupboard’, and I’m like:
‘Manoushkin, you know I hate it when you just sit there and yell my name. If you want something, come and ask me. Please don’t just sit there and yell at me, ok?’
‘Ok. Hey mum, I’m hungry.’
‘Yeah, I know gorgeous, that’s why I’m in the kitchen making food.’
So I give him a kiss and walk away thinking I handled that well, cos; a) I was getting food ready before he even knew he was hungry and b) -wait, who am I kidding? That’s not a win. He thinks food is the answer to everything. He always has. As a baby he was like; I’m hungry, I want some food. I’m tired now, I probs just need some more food. Gosh I’m thirsty; food is probs the answer to that conundrum. My tummy is hurting, I need to eat, pronto! And now I’m feeling uncomfortable and my anxiety is peaking, I’m going to stress eat a packet of chips and wash it down with apple juice…but I’m getting sidetracked. (Also side note, my kid did not eat chips and juice when he was a baby. I’m not that bad of a mum. That was when he was at least 4 and our friend got us court-side tickets to the Sydney Kings game and his daughter came wearing a bear suit. Clearly I am writing this rant retrospectively.) But back to me walking away feeling victorious, cos b) I didn’t bark back at him! My response was actually very measured and reasonable and showcases my brilliant parenting prowess, which of course is the topic of this rant. I’m sure he won’t just sit there and yell my name over and over ever again.
So I head back to the kitchen, finish making his food and then I yell out, ‘Manoushkin, dinner!’ Zero point 2 milliseconds later and I get a wailing ‘aaaaiiiooooooww!’ You can bet instant waterworks are incoming, a foot stamp is more than likely, possibly a balled fist or two and then, ‘I don’t want dinner. I want a snack plate!!!!!!’ Frick. Frickity fricken fucksticks. Chapter 1 of Parenting Toddlers for Dummies: always, always, ALWAYS remember to call dinner a snack plate. There is no such thing as dinner. Just snack plates. Yummy.
Ps. I am not religious, but please god please let this be an ‘age and stage’ thing and not that my son is now just a demanding brat. Speaking of demanding, he has gotten into the habit of saying ‘Mum. Come.’ My three year old literally orders me around. He’s dead serious too. Jeepers.