Some of us get offended easily. Some of us don’t. But I guarantee if you are a parent to toddlers you’ll be offended by them, very offended. And not just on one occasion, but on several! Daily! My kids offend me a lot!
My children are my world, I’d sacrifice anything for them, and do they appreciate that about me? At age two and three, hell no! They don’t appreciate anything I do. Not because they’re bad or rude, but because they’re a little too young yet. And I can live with that, most of the time. Some of the time, however, I cannot. I get deeply offended to grudging point. I’m laughing as I type as I am actually just kidding. The kind of just kidding with a sprinkle of ‘not really’ on top though.
I thought I’d share six of my reoccurring offended moments with you. Please tell me I’m not alone!
The dinner offense
You plan 7 days ahead. Each meal is carefully balanced nutrient wise. You cook it lovingly. My children would be happy with character spaghetti and crumpets every evening or chicken nuggets and hashbrowns, and the worn out momma in me desperately wants to dish up a quick tv dinner for them. But i don’t. I make sure they eat a variety of vegetables with each meal. I make sure they eat carbohydrates and protein. I lovingly prepare nutritious meals. I arrange the food the way each child likes it. At the same time I also referee a match between two tired trolls in my lounge. I sweat. I get irrate. I wish for bedtime. But I persevere. Some days my meals are welcomed with open arms, most days to be quite honest. But on some occassions I serve up poisonous yackiness. How dare I cook a lovely meal? There’s flailing, sqawking, and mouth clamping. Then there’s timeout. A very long timeout! I ask myself why I bothered and vow tomorrow I’ll give them genetically modified 15% chicken nuggets with deep fried chips. I take it personal. Then I have to get over it.
The new clothing offense
Since becoming a momma I rarely spend money on new clothes for myself. I’d rather spend it on my children. On the rare occasion I’ll purchase something new. A new top maybe. I save it for an occassion that doesn’t involve the four walls of my home. I look forward to wearing it. New clothes make you feel less mummified. I try it on. My three year old then looks me up and down. “Mummy what is that top? I don’t like it. Dont wear that!” And within 5 seconds you’re knocked to the ground by the words of a toddler and you would like to carefully clip him around the ear. I take it personal. Then I have to get over it.
The no kiss diss offense
We’ve all been there; you ask your child for a kiss. They point blank refuse and then go out of their way to kiss the next nearest grownup! Do they even love you? I take it personal. Then get over it.
The decorating offense
We spent hundreds of pounds and hundreds of hours decorating a joint room for our darlings. Every last detail was thought about. It was accessories heaven. It involved everything they love. Or so I thought. My darling three year old walked in and said “Wow! But wheres the clouds wallpaper like in Toy Story?!” Gutted. Got over it.
The Pintetest offense
I spend countless hours at night researching creative and sensory ideas for my boys. I love letting them express themselves. Some activities involve specialist items, and a week or two to prepare all the things you’ll need. You get excited. You explain the activity to your kids. Your two year old shares your view. Your three old doesn’t. He doesn’t even want to give it a go. He’s adamant it’s boring. Why do you bother? I’ll just sit you in front of Jeremy Kyle then tomorrow. Offended? Yes! Moving on, again.
The other mum offense
I am very protective of my munchkins; not in a smothering way, but in a good way. I am responsible for their hearts and minds right now. I have to protect their innocence at all costs. I am conscious of all they see, hear, read, play, and watch. They only watch toddler appropriate cartoons and films. Nothing else. They play toddler and preschool games on the Tablet. They even ask me if they are old enough to watch things i.e. Batman Lego Movie incase it’s scary or for big boys. They don’t question this 99.9% of the time. My three year old does 00.1% of the time. “Mummy my friend played a game with naughty pirates and it was spooky I think. Why can’t I play it? Why did his Mummy let him?” and then cue the tears and tantrum. Does he not know I’m protecting him? Does he not know he’d be scared and his little mind would lose some of it’s innocence? I take it personal. I wish he could understand I’m not like some of the other mums but for good reasonds. Not because I am a killjoy. I remember my reasons, their hearts, their minds. I get over it and stand firm.
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