Pick your battles, including with yourself.

Let’s start off by setting the scene and the tone of the day. Maddox was an angel today. We went off this morning to look for pumpkins for Halloween decor. (Sidenote: Fruit & Veg City has average looking pumpkins for R99 each and Woolworths has beautiful ones for R40 each. Well played Woolies.) We had the most lovely morning and lunchtime and came back home for the regular post-lunch nap.

Maddox went to sleep nicely at about 15h30 so I decided to treat myself to an afternoon nap as well, since I’m hitting the town for a girls night out tonight. The only glitch in this situation is that our baby monitor was playing up and that I sleep like the dead. I figured I would be able to hear Maddox due the fact that his room is about 2 meters away from mine.

Unfortunately not. At 19h15, my husband comes busting into our room with Maddox saying that I didn’t hear him calling for ages and my half conscious mind went into a flat spin. I went into classic mommy emotional states: “Oh my god, I’m a terrible mother, I didn’t hear my baby calling me”. “Shiiiiiiiiiiiit, bedtime was at 7, now everything is out of sync, how do I get back on track?”,  and a general plethora of panic swearwords plus the usual tears and confusion that come from a nap that was too long.

I managed to get my mind back on track after 15 minutes using self-persuasion that everything was ok and this wasn’t a big deal, plus a teensy bit of vodka.

Next: Dinner. What was the quickest and healthy-ish dinner that I could whip together for my little one? Avo on toast. A classic winner. Except for the fact that I only had my healthy linseed bread left.

To anyone who believes that the type of bread that you serve a pre-schooler isn’t an issue, I openly invite you over to my house to witness the impact that this “minor change” has.

I approached the topic with Maddox from an availability perspective saying that this was the only kind of bread we have left and that the alternative was something awful like no dinner at all. It worked (#winning), and he agreed to the linseed bread. I happily trotted down the stairs to make avo on toast, remembering the instructions from Maddox to cut the toast in half.

I returned with his dinner and the tears started. I hadn’t cut the toast length ways as well. It was the biggest deal to him. THE BIGGEST. He was so upset that I hadn’t checked how many times he wanted the toast cut. I tried to reason with him and said that it was ok, it will taste the same. No response and more tears.

Eventually, I simply decided that actually, I might be giving in to his whims but actually, f**k it. I needed to get this little one to bed, and if that meant going back downstairs to get a knife to cut that blimming toast again, so be it.

I might have lost this battle,  which could be seen as giving into a pre-schooler’s tantrum, but actually, at that moment in time, I didn’t care and I just wanted him to have his dinner and get to bed at a fairly reasonable time. If this was a battle about something serious, like hitting another child or manners ( I never budge), then chilled but, in this case, I think it was actually a win-win in the end. Well, that’s what I’m telling myself anyway.