So. Faith is turning two in a month’s time and of course, the terrible twos have descended upon this peace-lovin’ home. In fact, I think we were first hulk-smashed when she was 19-20 months old and have since lived through some pretty jaw-dropping episodes. The tantrums have somewhat given way to a subtler, more civilised form of protestation, where F launches into verbal diarrhoea that has the consistency of 10364 resounding No’s. Case in point:
‘Faith, can you please drink some water?’
‘Faith, can you please eat your dinner?’
You get the picture.
She doesn’t shout when she says no, but it can be really grating when *clenches teeth* I.just.want.to.get.the.job.done.
But of course, things are getting more complicated now that Faith makes sense of the world and understands more than we think she does.
After a particularly rough night, I was just about to fall into deep sleep when F woke up. I practically dragged myself by my nostrils as I shuffled over to her room to pick her up, and promptly hauled her to my bed, in the hope that she would snooze a little longer and let me catch some winks. As any parent’s luck would have it, the kid was fresh as a daisy and buzzed like an Energizer bunny; I tried to sleep through her jumping on my bed and of course, I couldn’t. I don’t know what came over me but I decided to reason with her.
‘Faith, Mama is tired. Can Mama sleep?’
‘Please? Mama wants to sleep.’
‘No.’ (pause) ‘Mama wear spectacles!’ (That’s Faith’s way of getting me up from the bed because I always put on my glasses the instant we wake from our lunchtime naps.)
‘But Mama wants to sleep. Mama is tired.’
(resigned to fate) ‘You want Mama to wear spectacles?’
Well, I wish the kid said no, like she used to. But with any parent’s luck…