Izzy: “Mammy, I know the rules.”
Me: “What are the rules?”
Izzy: “Leave your toys in the car when you go to playgroup and don’t wee on things.”
Those are very good rules. Shame she didn’t follow the last one as I’ve just had to clean up her, the car seat, the car and two tiny new baby cardigans that she has just covered in wee. The above conversation happened just afterwards.
I let Izzy loose with the paints for a while before cleaning her up, sitting her at the table and pleading with politely asking her to do a nice neat hand print.
We made a canvas showing Izzy’s handprints at 3 months, age 1, age 2 and now we were attempting the three year handprint. We would have had plenty of space to add another in 12 months time but she wouldn’t listen, grabbed the canvas and plonked her purple covered hand down in the empty space. It is a pretty good handprint though. We might still be able to squeeze in a 4 year old handprint.
I’m now 28 weeks pregnant, which marks the start of the third trimester.
The Babycentre app kindly informed me of all the lovely things I have to look forward to: “Normal symptoms of the third semester may include heartburn, hemorrhoids, constipation, urinary incontinence, swelling and itchy skin. Your breasts may also begin leaking milk.”
Oh the glamour. Like I didn’t feel bad enough when my last Bounty pack included samples of Tena Lady and stretch mark cream.
In order to cope with the terrible twos we introduced the pasta jar into our house. Simple enough concept. Every time Izzy was ‘good’ she got a piece of pasta, and once the jar was full she got a reward, from a new colouring book or small toy to a trip to the cinema.
It worked well at first, but the idea of what constituted ‘being good’ was a bit vague and open to negotiation. There was inconsistency and the novelty wore off.
When we reintroduced the pasta jar just for potty training it worked much better. There was a clear rule for when pasta was given – and when she had an accident she was reminded that next time she would get pasta if she used the toilet or potty.
Day three of chicken pox – or ‘chicken pops’ as Izzy calls them – and she is covered from head to toe. She’s been up most of the night, wriggling and scratching in our bed, only going back to sleep in her own bed once I camped down on her floor in a sleeping bag. So cue two very tired parents today – one at work and one blogging in an effort not to fall asleep on the sofa while Izzy watches Disney Junior.