Shout from the rooftops

All parents are proud when their child enjoys preschool.
It means they're gaining independence. It means that you've chosen a fun learning environment for your precious offspring. Little One has been visibly excited to go to preschool each and every morning so far.

But today, he was audibly excited. Today he skipped over the threshold and shouted a 'Yay!' that was one of the sweetest sounds my ears have ever witnessed. I headed home happy, today is clearly A Good Day.

When I collected him from preschool, his teacher stopped me to have a quick word. When following some directions today, another teacher had said 'Hi' to Little One, and he made a darn good attempt at repeating it back. They were just as surprised and delighted as I was!

Naturally, he was rewarded with lots of play time on the way home. Want to push an immovable old piece of farm machinery? Have at it, genius! Want to hold open the school gates for a double-decker busload of kids? Why the heck not.

We played, we walked, I chatted, we signed. Then he remembered that there was still some honey lurking in the bottom of his lunchbox. As he stopped on the path to lick the container clean, I laughed and said 'Mmmm'. And then he smiled and said 'Mmmm. Om om om. Mmmmmmmm.'

Today is an amazing day. Ours is an amazing boy. Medical technology is an amazing thing.

My least favourite things

With sincere apologies to fans of the Sound of Music...

Car-fulls of vomit
And trousers 'round ankles.
Crashing the buggy,
The fourth time it rankles.
Clothes soaked in urine
All tied up with strings
These are some of my
Least-favourite things!

Muddy, wet jean legs
And hot plastic raincoats.
Cancelled appointments
For one of these wee dotes.
A hole in my handbag
From my wedding rings
These are some of my
Least-favourite things!

When the rain pours,
When the car stinks,
When the baby's sad,
I simply sing some of my favourite swears,
And then I don't feel so bad!

A wee dose of reality for a smug Mammy

One of those mornings. 

All the little jobs seem to take a little longer. Socks need to be turned the right way out before being put on. 

It takes three tries to put three yoghurts in three lunchboxes.

But spirits are high, songs are sung and we're finally only one light jacket away from getting out the door.

'Mammy! He's standing on the chair! He's WEEING ON THE CHAIR!' 

No worries. I've got this. I swing into action, calling out directions like an ER doctor in her element.

'Little One, come with me!

Little Lady, sing songs to Littlest so he doesn't get bored while we sort this out.

Little Man, we need pants, trousers, socks and shoes. Bring them straight to the bathroom please!'

Honestly, I only just stopped myself from shouting out 'Stat!'

And in a flurry of activity we were done. A clean, dry superhero was ready for another day of preschool. 

'Great teamwork,' I told them as we trotted along to school, 'we're not even too late after all that help!'

I wished them luck with spelling tests and dispatched many kisses and hugs. Little One trotted happily in to his friends and Littlest and I headed for home.

A quick tower built, a book read, and a load of washing into the machine. And finally, time for a coffee. Content with another good morning, I savoured it. Sitting comfortably, chatting with Littlest who was practicing standing up and sitting down by my feet. 'If I were trendy,' I thought, 'I'd probably consider this a moment of hygge. Still, my cup is empty and there are other things to be getting on with.'

I stood. 

And yes, it was at that moment I realised what had happened.

I sat in the wee.

I'm pretty sure George Clooney never had to deal with this!

Meltdowns and how to deal with them

I'm going to start with the TL; DR here.
Mind your own damn business.

It is that simple. If someone else's child is having a tantrum, or a meltdown, and they are not in imminent danger from, say, an oncoming train or tsunami, then back the hell off.

I promise you that the person dealing with the meltdown has a better idea of what to do about it than you.

With the best of intentions, it is unlikely that you will be able to help.

If your intention is merely to make a funny, funny joke along the lines of 'Uh oh, uh oh! That's not good, ha ha ha!' then perhaps you should take up some sort of hobby, as it would appear you have too much time on your hands.

Forcing a parent who is dealing with an overwhelmed, panicked toddler to actually acknowledge your hilarious remarks is not just rude, but utterly stupid.

The person dealing with a scenario you'd rather not find yourself in does not owe you an explanation.

So to the 'hilarious' man who encountered us at a low point this afternoon:
I could have told you that he'd had an amazing start to preschool today.
I could have told you that just being in a noisy environment is like running a marathon for him.
I could have told you that he desperately needed sleep.
I could have told you that if I let him go, he'd have run into traffic simply because that was the direction he was facing.

But it was none of your business. Instead, your amusing little interruption, a moment's distraction, earned me a rather painful bite on the back of my neck. So thanks for that, funny man.

What's really funny is that people like you are never around to see how his body relaxed instantly after I wrestled him into the sling. You weren't around when a newly calmed little boy inspected my scratches and tooth marks half way home and said sorry. And if you're lucky, you will never truly understand what it is like to be so utterly overwhelmed by your senses that you simply cannot cope.

But understand this - it was none of your damn business.
Next time, back off.