Big girl at dinner

This is Poppy at dinner last night, she is growing up so quickly. After seeing me scoop rice towards my fork with my knife a few nights ago she asked for a knife too, then copied me exactly. So now she had a knife and fork at dinner. If that wasn't big-girl-ish enough she found a Diddy cup in the back of the cupboard and immediately asked for water in it. From her gleeful giggles when she saw it perhaps she uses one at nursery, I thought, which was confirmed when she carefully lifted it up and drank like a Big Girl. And then slowly set it down on the table to carry on playing, obviously aware that it will spill out if she's rough with it like she is with her milk beakers. So now she has a knife, fork and open cup at dinner. Wow.

Anyone reading this who is not a parent cannot possibly fully appreciate how these small but significant achievements can really make your day. Confirmation that you are doing ok, you are teaching your child how the world works.

Will it get any better?

Today's ballet class was another bad experience. I did just type 'waste of time' but deleted it. It wasn't a complete waste as it passed a couple of hours driving and spending 35 minutes being cried at, climbed on, hit, and tantrum-ed too. The clinginess that has been a feature since the chicken pox manifested hugely today, with her refusing to let me sit down on the floor. I had to be standing with her in my arms. Which really hurts my back, hips, wrists and hands after anything more than 5 minutes. And resulted in a tantrum when I began to refuse due to the pain. Another mother there even asked sympathetically "Aw, is she tired? Or just doesn't want to do it?" To which I snapped back (poor woman getting in the midst of me battling with my demon child) "No, she's like this all the time!" I think she got the general idea of my mood and didn't speak to me again.
By the time I got back to the car, after yet another tantrum when she wouldn't hold my hand near the road and therefore had to carried kicking and screaming, I breathed a sigh of relief and shed a few tears. I no longer care what other people think of me, Poppy, or my (in)ability to parent her. That's not what gets me down, riles me, frustrates me, brings tears to my eyes and a heaviness to my heart. It's how everyone else's child acts normally. Even if they are a little shy or don't want to join in, they sit quietly on a lap or outside the circle. They don't scream at or hit their parent for sitting down, throw a maraca across the floor then have a hissy fit when an innnocent toddler picks it up for a little shake, shout "no, no, no, no...etc" over and over again when their parent is dancing and joining in with the fun and music.

Is there any point in carrying on? Who am I doing this for, her or me? Or us?

Will it get any better?

Future gymnast? I think not.

I took Poppy to her first toddlers gymnastic class yesterday. We went with two of my friends and their sons, which was the first time we'd managed to meet up since well before Christmas. After arriving super-early due to me forgetting exactly what time the class started, Poppy grumpily woke up and refused to be put down until about 15 minutes into the class, not even being tempted by the free-play time allowed at the beginning to get them used to the space and equipment. Thankfully she finally woke up (after me giving in to the whining/building to a tantrum and gave her a dummy) and joined in. Once she got started she was away to go, climbing the little ladder thingie, hanging on a bar, hauling herself up onto soft blocks and joining one of her little friends rolling about on the big squishy mat. There was time for songs and actions, marching, star jumps, skipping, and parachute play at the end. All in all it was good fun, and I'm sure next week when we walk into the room she'll remember where she is and join straight in. At least I hope so, last night and today I'm so stiff and painful from carrying her about and crawling on the floor. Ouch.
After being asked by various family members if she is to be a future Olympic gymnast, I answered a resounding 'No'. Delicate and light on her feet are not ways I would describe my daughter...And based on the genes she inherited from me - unable to do a handstand for fear of falling over, hated gym at school - and her father - can't lift his leg above knee height, two left feet - she never had much of a chance.

And we have ballet class in the morning - lessons learned from last week are:
1. Feed her breakfast number 2 (toast normally given at about 8am, after breakfast number one on waking at stupid o'clock) later in the morning so that she doesn't require biscuits during the class,
2. Go into waiting room just before 11am so that she doesn't get too ingrossed the the toys there and refuse to enter the room where the actual ballet class is,
3. Don't put a hat on her and only a lightweight jacket, in case she refuses to remove said garments at the start of the class and therefore looks very odd and overheated throughout.

Who knew being a parent would involve such planning? Never mind ensuring the nappy bag is packed, the whole morning has to be considered so that a 30 minute class will hopefully go to plan!

Being in love with your child

Now, don't get me wrong, I always love Poppy. I am not, however, always in love with her. Especially when she prefers to sit on the naughty step for 15 minutes in a dirty nappy, saying 'No' smugly at me when I ask repeatedly if she's ready to have her nappy changed yet. Or having a paddy when I won't give her a biscuit just before dinner.

I don't know if it's because hubby and I have got the feeling of empowerment and superiority thanks to my reading of some parenting books for inspiration, or if Poppy has got better behaved, but we are feeling more in control of her and her tantrums at the moment. Perhaps it's a combination of the two. But for the last week or so the last thing on my mind at night has been Poppy, of a funny thing she's done that day or how proud I am of an achievement. Instead of worrying over one aspect or another of parenting her, loving her despite the hardships of parenting, I am in love with her. And it makes for a very pleasant change.