Because what the internet needs is more wittering about rubbish parenting

Friday, 16 September 2011

It Really Is The Hardest Word

Just had a battle of the wills with The Toddler. I fear I lost. I certainly didn't win.

She was all ready for bed, just about to have her last story, which she has lying down (in theory) in bed. She started jumping on the bed. I told her not to. She jumped again. I told her not to again. During the day, I would threaten with "the corner", but couldn't really be bothered with taking her out of (ok, off the) bed if she called my bluff. So she was informed that she would not get her story if she didn't stop jumping and lie down immediately. She chose not to comply. So we said "OK, no story, goodnight then" and walked towards the door. She was not happy. A wiser person would have kept walking. But, as has been long established, wise is something I am not. I went back over to The Toddler's bed and told her she could have her story if she said sorry for jumping on the bed and not listening to me.

Well, that was a stupid idea. The Toddler said, mournfully, "Okaaaay". I said, "Go on then, say you're sorry". She said, "Okaaaay". And on it went. I was determined to get a "sorry" out of her; she, it seems, was equally determined not to say it. I have no idea why, on either side. I didn't really care whether she was actually sorry, I just keep thinking that I should mean what I say and follow through with it. Consistent parenting and all that. Anyway, after a prolonged period of this, she decided that no story was worth giving in for, I decided that it made no odds to me whether she had a story or not. I went downstairs to watch Masterchef, she counted, gleefully and repeatedly, to 5.

So the moral of the story is..... erm.... Supernanny has a lot to answer for?

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