Matt the Husband always takes the michael when I'm blowing a gasket by following me round the house making the sound of a whale or dolphin. The more apoplectic I become, the more his voice is there resonating in my head making me want to throttle him, burst into tears and laugh all at the same time. It's really really annoying.
I've had one of those days.
Grace has been the definition of a toddler today, perfect behaviour interspersed with manic tantrums, screaming fits, hitting, throwing things and generally putting my patience very much to the test. Today I have perfected the ujayii breath my yogamaster always spoke of.
Now I get it.
It always tickles me that in the real world I have a short fuse and a sharp tongue, and yet I can withstand a full shift of toddler hell with my darling daughter and still be able to smile for the Vicar when we pass him mid-tantrum in the supermarket. I have been tested today, bitten my lip, prayed the three hours until Matt the Husband gets home would speed up and the two hours Grace slept would slow down.
Yet mixed with the "I'm a stressed Mama, GET ME OUT OF HERE!" moments I have toyed with in my head today, there have been the little gems of wonder like a cloud with a silver lining where Grace does something cute and just makes me smile. Like waving like Royalty to all and sundry perched on a chair reading a book in the library.