Keras Kepala! A disastrous sunday gives a glimpse of a future to behold

Meijin, you are so full of joy and life, but what happened all of a sudden? In the last week, you’ve become keras kepala! (hard headed). Uh oh, are you entering the terrible two’s early?

The other day was a big wake up call. Sunday, usually a lazy, relaxed family day, turned into a crying marathon. And for what? Because I wouldn’t let you eat your raisin bun in the bath? It all started in the morning when I asked you to eat it at the table and you wanted to munch around the house, a big no-no. Determined to reason with you and not just grab the bun from your hand, we worked it out, but you gave us a glimpse of your iron will - oh yeah, watch out baby!

Disaster averted, we had a fun day swimming, napping, eating Dad’s home-popped popcorn in front of the tube, and going to Nino’s birthday. But by 5.30pm it all started to unravel. Our first mistake was staying too late at the party. Our second was not bringing your dinner with us. Our third was digging into the party favors bag in the car. A tired, hungry two-year-old on a sugar high is not a pretty sight!

Home at last by 6pm, we rushed to get some food into you, but it was already too late. You ate a bit, but then came down from your chair to follow Bodhi into the bath, raisin bun in hand. No matter what I said, I could not wrestle it from you. A river of tears poured out of your beautiful brown eyes. You became hysterical and totally unreasonable! Aaaaaargh!! I had to put my earplugs in.

Finally, I took the raisin bun from your tight little fist, lathered you with soap, and changed you into your night clothes. You screamed at the top of your lungs for Daddy the whole time.

When you finally got to Daddy, he calmed you down by showing you how to cook an egg, and I retreated to my office to calm myself down. I didn’t dare go near you for fear of triggering another crying episode! Fifteen minutes later, I came out. Throwing my hands up in despair, I asked Pawan what he would have done. He came up with these 3 great ideas for dealing with Miss Iron Will:

keep your cool
add a dose of humor
change the game

After making some jokes about the fruit at the table, (you giggled when we pointed to a pineapple and said it was a watermelon – that’s 2 year old humor!) you looked me in the eyes, and calmly said “raisin bun”. Ah, almost two years of caring for you daily summed up by a pastry!

That night, we pretended we were all going to bed to get you into your room without a fight. Lying down on the sheepskin and pillow, I read books with you for almost half an hour, had heart-to-heart talk about the events of the day (you repeated “dada hit piñata, M-bay watch” several times), and said good night to every item in the last book. Only then did you say “mama, bobo” with your dodo in your mouth and other two soothers and milk clutched tightly in your palms. In bed, I rubbed your exhausted little head and stroked your velvety soft brown curls for a few seconds. When you said “bye mommy, bye”, I knew you were finally ready for day to fade into night. I crept quietly out of the room and shut the door behind me with relief. Phew. Only a week earlier, bed-time routines were a cinch, not to mention a joy. Tip-toeing around your moods, on the other hand, is a nerve-wracking ordeal.

People often say about their spouse that ‘the things they adore them for when they first fall in love are the same things they can’t stand after years of marriage.’ Perhaps the opposite is true with kids! I suppose we will appreciate your will of steel when you’re a teenager making decisions for yourself, but at 20 months of age, it can make life difficult. The things we find hardest when you’re two we will love most later on. You go girl! Iron will and all. I’ll keep my earplugs handy.