I think we are in the midst of a transitional phase. There was a time, not that long ago, when the Munchkin was content for periods of time to play by herself while I got some work done. Those days are gone. Sweet memories!

Now, although she doesn’t necessarily want me to participate in every single activity of the day, for some reason my presence is required to witness said activity. As though, if I wasn’t watching it would be as if it never even happened. In a book I’m reading at the moment, the Author talks about how children don’t really relate to their mother’s as separate to themselves until they are at least 18 months old. And I get the sense that there is a bit of tension with Riley at the moment between wanting to revel in her dependence and wanting to be attached 24/7. I can relate. It’s hard for me to let go of the baby-stage too. I might be guilty of occasionally taking the sleeping munchkin from her room into ours when I’m going to bed because I like the company.

At the moment it goes a little something like this:

Her: (Through single words, pulling, pointing and whateve rother communicaton mechanism at her disposal): I want to swing/bounce/go outside/eat your food/draw/play with play-doh/have your read me the same Grug book five million times/

We do said swinging/boucning/going outside/watching her eat/watching her draw/watching her play/be tortured by repetitive Grug reading activity.

Me: Ok, munchkin. i’ve got to get some work done for a bit. You can come inside/keep doing what you’re doing/watch a dvd/eat something/generally destroy the house as long as I can get in some work

Tantrum ensues. Devastated crying, dropping to the ground, ‘No, Mummy, NO!’, general screaming and some rather disturbing grunting/whining.

I hope this is a transitional phase. Please god, let it be a transitional phase. As in temporary, non-permanent and giving me a fighting chance at maintaining some shred of sanity. Or if not, just that I end up with some form of madness where it no longer bothers me.