Then click on the little boy’s head here & you will be magically transported to the funsome Mammasaurus’ blog for many more pictures crying out for a witty / pithy #satcap caption.
Ellie has a bad habit of tipping the contents of toy boxes on the floor then walking away without having played with the toys much, if at all. It’s a particular problem here as we have so little space. If we let stuff pile up we’ll start tripping over it. Then, as the teddies & toy trains pile higher & higher, we’ll end up not being able to move & will find ourselves walled up inside. Again.
We’ve been trying to get her to tidy up afterwards, to put the toys back in the box. She’s nearly 3 so she should be able to do that now, right?
We haven’t had much success.
“Ellie, will you pick the <play> food up please?”
She’s a good girl – as she’ll tell you herself – but, like any 2-year-old, she has her moments
“Ellie, please pick the food up”
“No. I don’t want to!”
“Ellie, you tipped it on the floor; you should put it back”
Appealing to logic to a 2-year-old. Yeah, that’s going to work…
“No. You do it!”
Then she goes upstairs to get ready for bed with Jake & the Mummy, while I clear up after dinner. And tidy up Ellie’s toys.
But no more! We’ve decided to get stroppy!
So next time we added:
“Ellie, if you don’t clear up your food we’re going to take it away”
“Ellie, Daddy will take it away” (Daddy shoots the Mummy a look that says: “Thanks!” Sarcastically) “& you won’t be able to play with it any more. Isn’t that right, Daddy?”
I understand cabinet collective responsibility & the need for parental unity & all that, although I can’t help feeling a bit like Nick Clegg.
“Yes, that’s right. I will take your food away”
“Ellie, do you understand that we will take those toys away & you won’t be able to play with them any more?”
“Yes. That’s OK”.
She called our bluff! She’s only 2, for crying out loud!
Note To Self: Never play poker with Ellie. Unless she’s on my team…
Then they all trotted off upstairs as usual & I wore some more holes in my jeans clearing up toys. As usual. Although I did take the food away. For a few days
You see what we’re up against here?
If I had a pound for every hour I’ve spent clearing up food & toys from the floor I’d be fat. Or something.
I’d also have jeans that don’t get holes in the knees within a couple of months of purchase.
Found this morning:
- 1 little plastic man, with a swivelling head. Not sure why: he doesn’t look like he’s possessed
- 1 child’s bracelet
- 1 dirty sock, mine
- 1 sheet of star stickers, useful for potty training
- 1 plastic burger
- 1 doll’s T-shirt (very dusty)
- 1 Wizard’s Hat sticker. No idea where that came from. Must be Magic
- Danny Dog & Suzy Sheep. Yes, together. There’s quite a scandal I believe; I’ve heard talk of “grounded for a month”. Poor Peppa is in a state of shock
- Another little plastic man; appears to be a Bavarian tourist. Non-swivelly head
- The obligatory dust & dirt
Not too bad for a whole floor, you say?
Actually, that’s just from under the sofa: the floor was much worse. And today was a really good day: I’m amazed at how little was there. Not even any leftover food!
I spend an unreasonable amount of time on my hands & knees sweeping under sofas with a broom handle. Not only is there the Daily Sweep, but any time I hear a plaintive cry of “Where’s my <horsey / airplane / Goldilocks / farmer / hat / pizza / slippers / blueprint for an inter-stellar spaceship>?!” it’s “Hang on: I’ll get the broom”. And it’s almost invariably there.
So my advice?
For pity’s sake, by all that’s holy, if you can: get a sofa that goes all the way to the floor. ALL THE WAY. No gaps. None. Airtight. Hermetically sealed.
OK? You can thank me later. And buy me a new pair of jeans.
The twins are 2. -ish. I may have mentioned this.
Actually 27 months, as of today – but it stills counts. They’re still 2.
As they’ve grown up they’ve both developed a strong sense of self. They’re striving for a bit of independence. They’ve decided that some things are “Mine”.
No, scratch that: most things are “Mine!”. Even if we’re organised enough to have 2 of everything – which we often aren’t – there are still slight disagreements about who should have what toy / snack / turn on the trampoline / etc.
And their command of the English language sufficient to negotiate their way through their lives’ many conflicting interests hasn’t quite yet managed to catch up with their knowledge of the concepts of possession, ownership & individual rights.
So instead of: “Excuse me but you appear to be in the way of where I am intent on going so would you mind moving out of the way please?” – we get a shove.
Instead of “I’ll play with the <insert toy name here> for a few minutes then you can have it after me for about the same number of minutes, OK?” we have “Mine!”, “No, mine!”, “No, mine!” / “My turn!”, “My turn!”, My turn!”, repeat…
Then there can be a shove, or a whack. Sometimes hair-pulling, & when they’re feeling particularly stroppy pinching, sometimes even biting.
It’s not always like this I hasten to add. Often they play & share beautifully together. Mainly when they’re around other people.
But we’ve still felt the need to introduce… drum-roll please… The Naughty Step!
I’m not sure though that’s it’s been as effective as we’d hoped.
They’ve been fighting over who gets to sit on The Naughty Step. Not really what we had in mind…
When one does something the other doesn’t like it’s “Naughty ‘tep!” “Naughty ‘tep!”.
Ellie made her toy bunny wabbit sit on The Naughty Step. After she’d grabbed his paw & hit Jake with it.
Still at least she’d grasped the concept, I suppose.
Yep, they’re still 2!
- The Two Terrible Twos (whiskeyforaftershave.com)
I’m sorry that I haven’t been posting much here lately: my enthusiasms are often short-lived; also this blog has been quite photo-based & I haven’t had a working camera for a while now.
I have been posting a bit in my “3 Brilliant Things” Posterous blog, which is 1 of many 3BT blogs where the idea is that you post “3 beautiful things” from your life every day, although my contribution is less regular.
I haven’t decided yet how to coordinate the 2 blogs: whether to dual-post, abandon 1 for the other, or to post regularly in Posterous & do a (weekly) summary here.
So here then is my latest, (yesterday’s), 3BT post:
The Mummy was looking after Jallie this morning so I took the opportunity, after the washing-up, to do some much-needed cleaning in the kitchen / diner. While doing that I was having a blast with some great music from a CD of songs from or about Memphis (the one in Tennessee, not Egypt), including:
Otis Redding: I’ve Been Loving You Too Long (to Stop Now)*
Merrilee Rush & the Turnabouts: Angel of the Morning (my favourite)
Al Green: Take Me to the River
I was spooning a milky dessert to them at lunchtime while they were standing up when Jake took a step backwards & stumbled over a bit of toy (a crow’s nest from a pirate ship). I jokingly said “That naughty toy: it tripped you up!”. Playing along, he turned around, picked it up & slammed it onto their little plastic table, like it was a Naughty Step. He then turned around & gave the table underneath the toy a good boot for good measure. Really made me laugh. (Except then he kept doing it, until I had to tell him to stop).
Just before dinner we were watching Jools’ Hootenanny from the box (shows how up-to-date I am with TV) & the 1st New Year’s song, Cyndi Lauper doing “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” with Jools & his Big Band: fantastic, a real show-stopper! Ellie was enjoying it too & was dancing around the room; while doing so she was shouting: “Jake! Come on!”. Adorable.
* The Mummy walked down the aisle to that song at our wedding.
** Does anyone else automatically think of Father Ted every time they hear that song now? I still haven’t decided whether or not that’s a good thing.
- Bad toys, naughty toys (cakeheadlovesevil.wordpress.com)
Images from a day in the life of JallieDaddy & Jallie:
After this we settled them into their cots. I had Jake & the poor guy took 40 minutes to calm down: he’s a bit bunged up with a cold. Then dinner & a bit of TV (“Episodes”, since you ask), then clearing up in the kitchen / diner. Then at 9.30, just as I was settling down to blogging, poor little Ellie woke up crying. She also has a snuffly nose. So I went to bed early & took her in with me, & the last of the Karvol. She didn’t settle for another 2 hours, poor thing. Although after that she slept ‘like a baby’ – till 5.40 am.
Which is why I didn’t get this post done last night!
Welcome to my world.
I’m looking forward now to seeing a bit of yours.
Why not have at look at the other entries in this week’s Gallery: it never fails to disappoint.
Have a look at all the other Silent Sunday photos at Mocha Beanie Mummy:
We went to our first local Twins Club of the year this morning. Unusually there were only a handful of parents & twins there; usually the place is heaving. Jallie seemed to enjoy themselves anyway
I don’t know why there weren’t as many there as usual. It seemed to result in there being a lot fewer toys out for the little darlings to play with. The room is always divided between a baby area & a toddlers area: mostly so the little ones don’t get squished by over-excited kids running around. The baby area’s toys are usually the soft colourful mat with cute dangly things hanging off arches kind, designed for babies to lie underneath on their backs. There are also things like spinning tops for the more mobile baby. Probably due to fewer babies there were a lot fewer toys too. Ellie seemed quite happy just socialising, but Jake was different. He’d decided that he was bored with little baby stuff: he wanted to play with the Big Boys.
So off he sped, crawling at top speed into the toddlers’ area. There were identical twin boys, aged 2 1/2, playing on a mini slide, throwing themselves / cars / bricks / anything they could find down it. Jake wanted a piece of this action! I gently slid him down the slide & he enjoyed it. There was a big plastic rocking horse there, which he enjoyed even more.
Trouble is, we didn’t realise we’d crossed some sort of child picket line. The toddler equivalent of “scab!” began ringing out (the odd muttered “Shoo”, & “our toys!”) , & a fair bit of stick waving took place. A baby with the big boys?! There are rules about this sort of thing!
It looked like the demo was about to turn ugly; the “Out Babies Out!” signs were up & there were rumours of a group of hardcore bike-riding kids heading here fast, complete with an arsenal of very sticky puddings. Postman Pat in his van was looking nervous.
So for the sake of Peace I removed Jake back over the Line of Demarcation. I’d smuggled some Big Boys’ Bricks back though!” Which, to be honest, Jake didn’t really know what to do with.
Well, it was too late; we’d caused Anarchy. The lines between the realities had become blurred! The kiddie cosmos was crumbling! I can see now why these rules exist. The Big Boys followed us over!
They’d decided that I was some sort of brick expert, & that we had to build towers & constructions, shapes so unconventional that they’d be worthy of Gaudi. I found myself backed into a corner. There was at least 1 muttering (I think) of “Dad”, which always makes me nervous, & often results in a quick & heartfelt explanation to my wife.
Fortunately they quickly concluded that I’m actually very dull - & not ‘Dad’ – & went back to their Zone. Not before I’d built a mean tower though!
As it did at Baby Sensory, it’s further dawning on me that in many ways our babies aren’t really babies any more. Too old & mobile for the little ones’ toys, too young & immobile for toddlers’ toys. As someone said of them there: they’re Middle-Aged Babies!
And they’re growing up – fast.
- Viva La Difference: I Get Around (whiskeyforaftershave.wordpress.com)