As you'll recall from my last post, Mini and her diva like behaviour (making me nickname her Mariah and/or Cher Lloyd depending on the mood at the time) has become such a concern even her teacher, Mrs C, has remarked upon it (and its effect on her education. Not to mention her classmates hearing).
It was decided, between Elder and I that action was needed to curb this, as frankly my head cannot take any more headache inducing screeching.
The very fact that Elder, her staunchest
However, this Saturday, Mini surpassed herself.
She was due to go to her first ever children's birthday party. The little girl in her class invited her within days of her starting at the school. A gift had been bought, and I had picked out a frock which was somewhere between parties in my 80s/90s school days (think floral and flammable materials), and something a bit more funky and up to date.
All week, operation Brat-No-More had been go, with both us parents showing a united front and behaviour meaning no sweets (Wednesday night) and no Simpsons or sweets (Thursday). Friday she was semi OK, but admitted how tired she was and off she went to bed with little fuss.
Saturday came and I felt rotten- that cold is still here, steadily making its way around my person (I have sticky eyes now. One of the Mums at school thought I was crying but it was the wind stinging my eyes making them watery).
I definitely was not in the mood for a full scale, gale force Mini moan session.
Nor was I in the mood for her pinching and kicking her brother.
By the time she screamed in my ear, and kicked me in the shin, I had had enough.
"That is IT. You are NOT going to the PARTY. Go to your room, NOW!"
Suddenly, the noise stopped. She stood in front of me, about to scream, and realised that Mummy very definitely was not joking.
The fact that then Elder then agreed with me, repeating to her to go to her room, I think it left her a little shell shocked.
"You know, we can't let her go now, or she'll think she do what she likes and we'll give in". I felt now Elder would wuss out, and let her come downstairs after 5 minutes with a grinning apology her only acknowledgement of her poor behaviour.
Instead, he agreed with me again- it was a united front.
So, Mini did not go to the party. She was sure she could go, however, as 1pm came and went and she was still in her play clothes, and by 2pm when I had hung her dress back up in the wardrobe, she sat down, and asked for a hug.
I let her have a hug, and asked her if she knew why she hadn't been allowed to go. "Yes, she said, I was very very naughty, and you were cross with me".
We had a good talk, and I told her that, should she behave like that again, she would not go to any parties, unless she behaved.
A rather subdued Mini went to bed last night, and she went straight off to sleep too. This morning, she has gotten up, had her breakfast and rather than moaning about what she wants for cereal, she dutifully ate what was given to her.
Her friend Oliver is here today with his Dad, and so far she has continued to be quiet and well behaved.
So why do I feel appalling?
I know full well that she will go to school tomorrow and will be the only one who couldn't go (of course her friends wont know it was because she was naughty, I told the child's Mum she was ill), and so wont be able to share in the excitement that continues after a party at that age.
I know I was right- her naughtiness has just got beyond a joke, but I do feel rotten. Mean even. I am also shocked at how much I sounded like my Mother when I told her she wasn't going.
What d'you think? Mean Mummy or not?