Bee, can you come here please?
Come here please, Bee.
Are you listening to me, Bee?
Bee, can you please listen to me?
Has anybody seen my toddler’s ears? They seem to have fallen off the sides of her head.
I’d love to say that my voice is so soft that she’s just not hearing me say the same thing to her twenty thousand times. I’d love to say that she’s so engrossed in learning to potty train herself or make my coffee that she just isn’t able to answer me right now.
I’d love to say any of those things, but the truth is, she’s just ignoring me. You know it’s the truth, because you have toddlers too. Either that or your toddler’s ears have fallen off as well, so of course she can’t do as you ask.
I’m getting bored of hearing myself plead with my earless child to stop ignoring me. Luckily, Bee eventually acknowledges my presence and is ready to negotiate. Literally negotiate, and she is better at it than I am. Honestly, my father-in-law, a retired auto exec, could have used Bee for labour negotiations. She is relentless. She would have had those union workers back on the line in no time.
She manages to canoodle special treats out of me for behaviour I vowed never to reward, like moving far enough out from under the bed that I can finally reach her to just pick her up and forcibly do the thing that I had been pleading with her to do for half an hour. We have even negotiated for special treats to get her into her coat and out of the house so that we can go to the zoo. Wtf? Now I have to dole out special treats just to get ready to go enjoy a special treat?
No, not always. Sometimes I refuse to hand out the two chocolate chips, or new sheet of stickers, or baby orange. (Ha! Sucker. I managed to make her think that a healthy Clementine is a special treat. Who’s in charge now?!)
Does that mean that she’s listening to me? No way, jose. That means that I just threatened to throw the tv in the garbage. Our threat du jour is quite effective, as Bee’s affection for Diego is greater than her affection for me, and she’ll do just about anything for him, like put on pajamas or stop running down the street.
I’m so sick of this, this trifecta of pleading, negotiating and threatening. Where is my good, sweet, attentive little girl who sticks close to my side and never gives me a moment’s frustration?
Oh wait, there she is, sitting on the couch, watching a Diego video and eating two chocolate chips.
Truly, it’s not always like this. Hell, it’s not even often like this. But we have our moments. Usually they come when I am stuck on the couch nursing Dove while folding laundry, or holding Dove while making dinner and answering the phone. You get the picture. I know that eventually, Bee will discover that she has clearly defined how far the boundaries can stretch and will chill out with the driving Mummy crazy routine. Either that or I will learn how to run faster than a two year old while holding a screaming infant and trying to steer the stroller away from oncoming traffic.
In the meantime, if you see her ears lying around, give me a call. And yes, there’s a special treat in it for you.