Not that your child behaves nicely, because of course *forces
smiles through gritted teeth* we welcome good behaviour. Rather the injustice
lies in the fact that your child will appear to save all disruptive, angry and
frankly INTOLERABLE behaviour just for you. Joyful.
I have to be honest here, at times I have concluded it MUST
BE ME. As already outlined in Lesson 8 I am not a natural ‘Coper,’ in fact more
often than not I think I am not coping at all. Perhaps my child knows this, and
chooses to push my already weary buttons…However, in the last month or two I have turned this conclusion on its head and I am now one hundred percent certain that parents simply get the worst of their bundles of joy.
We get the bundle, minus the joy.
Often a snotty, angry, clingy bundle who is seemingly on
hunger strike and throws his cutlery across the table…maybe that’s just mine - he
turns two this week, and quite frankly I am at my wits’ end with his general behaviour
*reaches for wine.*
It doesn’t matter who else looks after him for the day (grandparents/child-minder/postman),
he is invariably well behaved. Comments on collection/pick-up range from ‘he’s
been good as gold’ to ‘isn’t he easy to look after?!’ The latter is nearly
enough ammunition for me to claw both my eyes out in a frustrated rage. Said
rage is also accompanied by marginal guilt that I am almost willing him to behave poorly for
somebody else, so I can report back quite honestly ‘THIS IS MY WHOLE LIFE!’ When I have him for a day on my own, I don’t successfully manage to do anything (he kicks off in every shop/at the doctors/in the library - purposefully collapsing face down on the floor is commonplace). When his grandparents take him shopping/to the library/out for lunch he is, by all accounts, helpful. Say what?
 |
| How my child behaves for others |
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| His 'special' behaviour reserved for me |
On Sunday, I had the luxury of a lie-in (sorry to mums who have not had one of these in a while, I won’t dwell on it). Anyhow, I surfaced at 10am and ventured downstairs with the promise of a nice family day stretching out before me. I had been downstairs for no longer than two minutes when Helpful Henry turned into Hurricane Henry, and yet another breakfast was eaten with him hanging off my leg and snivelling on my dressing gown.
Me: ‘What’s the matter?’
Henry: ‘I WANT BUZZ’
Me: ‘You want Buzz Lightyear?’ *fetches Buzz Lightyear*
Henry: ‘NO! Take it AWAY!!’
Me: ‘Okay, Buzz has gone away’
Henry: *screams* ‘BUZZ!!’
And so it begins.
Not an
unusual turn of events, you might think, until my dear husband (obviously in my
good books for facilitating my lie-in), stated:
'He was absolutely fine until you came down.
Good as gold.’
I won’t repeat
my reply.
The Unmumsy Mum
