This weekend was a little crazy. Not because of a busy calendar or because I hadn't taken my meds but because Emma and I seemed to be having a battle of wills. I willed and she wouldn't!
Saturday she was a little off colour (trying very hard not to make any dark skinned jokes here). We must have been at Serendipity for an hour and she had had enough. Not even the divine little Luca could get her to smile. For the first time EVER Emma said to me she wants to go home.
Sunday was even worse. I was busy in the kitchen washing dishes and cleaning up, you know the glamorous things that some people ONLY wish they could be doing, when Emma asked me for her play dough. It took me a little while to hear her because I was SO enjoying what I was doing and so I didn't respond immediately. The next thing I hear "Mamma I'm counting to three...one, two...!" To say I was a little taken aback would be the understatement of the year. I looked at Emma, trying to think of what an adult would say in a similar situation but all that came to mind was "what are you going to do when you get to three?" So that was 1 to Emma, 0 to Mom.
Sometime later Emma was complaining about a sore tummy. She suffers with constipation and as much as we give her prune juice and try and make her eat wholewheat and bran goodies it doesn't seem to help. What does help is a bum rocket (suppository) so I put one in and smiled a little smile, knowing I had just leveled the playing field. 1 to Emma; 1 to me.
But my victory was short-lived when Emma peed on the floor as I was getting her ready for her bath. She stood there, bare cheeked and brazen faced and peed. Just like that. The toilet was within her reach. We were in the bathroom for heaven's sake. Right I thought, 2 to Emma, 1 to me. But I still got to put a suppository in her bum...
I put Emma in the bath, readying ourselves for little Jonathan's first party, and while I got her clothes together, Emma played with all her bath toys. I could hear her singing and splashing and having fun. And then it got very quiet. And then I heard a 'oh ooooooh'. Making a dash for the bathroom I was hoping she hadn't slipped and hurt herself or broken one of the ornaments or pulled the plug out. Rest assured, it was none of the above. But Emma had won this round hands down. Thanks to the suppository and the warm water the bath water was no longer clear and filled with bubbles. It was now murky and filled with poo.
Final score for the day; Emma 3. Me 1