I suppose the poo-painting day was harder, but that day was only difficult because of that single incident. She was otherwise good on that day.
It's not even 3pm, but I know that this is still the hardest day I have ever had with Rebecca. She has pushed my patience to the absolute limit (although I am proud that I have not lost it at any point), and she has violated almost every rule we have.
She is wearing her fourth pair of pants for today, and I have had her in five diapers so far.
Let's start properly though - morning began at 3am. Rebecca was thirsty. I was on night duty. After providing Rebecca with an unseemly quantity of milk, I brought her to my bed because I was too damn tired and sore to contemplate "filly" in the toddler bed. This did not seem to calm her, and she placed herself diagonally, so she was kicking Greg in the back. I protected him with the body pillow, but I still had someone crawling over me at weird and random times talking about body parts "eyes", "nose", "ears". There was one moment where she suddenly started yelling about kitties - but I don't think she was actually conscious. Perhaps she has inherited my sleep talking. Ultimately, it was a rough night. When Greg was about to leave for work, he gave her a kiss and it woke her up. She immediately began talking about monkeys and went to the living room. Thus began my day.
Her overnight diaper had leaked (3am milk feeding is no doubt to blame), and I changed her on the floor while she watched the Hallowe'en Dora episode. This meant eating breakfast in pair of pants #1. Breakfast was oatmeal. At least half went on the pants, which became so dirty as to be unwearable. I had allowed her to eat breakfast in her pj top (which is our normal routine), for just this reason. When I tried to put a new shirt on her - she pitched a writhing, screaming fit. She would not bear to wear a shirt. Problematic. Then, when I took off her dirty pants, she would not bear to wear a different pair. Even worse. It's 5 degrees outside, and I wanted to go run errands. Then, she removes her diapers, and I can't get anything back on her. She is running naked through the house, and I am afraid she will pee on the living room carpet. I tried to subdue her with my superior strength, but the thing is - she is perfectly capable and willing to remove anything I put on her. This was the point when I first felt my patience fraying. I decided to try to see the silver lining. Maybe I will start potty training early. I hauled out the potty and cleaned it. I showed her how to sit on it, and I told her if she needed to pee, she had to do it in the potty. And oh my god, she actually listened to me and peed in it!!! Then we dumped the pee in the toilet and flushed it away. Unfortunately, her recent toilet obsession kicked in and she kept playing with the toilet until she managed to let the heavy wood seat fall on her thumb. I was very concerned, and she howled and howled. I gave her big hugs, and then began to try to persuade her to wear clothes. Even the sight of the diaper made her yell and run away. Lately she has been fighting the change table a lot, and there have been several diaper leaks. She can manage to remove the diaper without taking off her clothes. On night, the diaper ended up in the leg of her footed PJs. But I digress -in a moment of inspiration, I reasoned that she might be willing to wear her swim diaper with its lovely Nemo design. The bonus is - she can't take off the swim diaper herself. She was perfectly willing to step into the swim diaper. After that, came the second hand injury. She pinched her index finger in a cupboard of our entertainment centre while I was putting something in the dishwasher. There was blood under her nail, and I felt terrible. After consoling her, I was able to dress her (hooray!). I had high hopes for running at least one errand. I was able to return a DVD and search for a maternity back support belt at the big pharmacy. At the same time, I purchased a package of size 6 diapers to see if she might be protesting due to size 5 feeling too tight. Unfortunately, I was told that while they can order in the belt, they did not have any currently. I decided Rebecca and I would check out the nearest maternity store, and pick up some milk at the same time. When I tried to put Rebecca in the car seat, I discovered that the swim diaper had become dislodged, exposing one butt cheek, and therefore allowing a one-sided leak. Pants #2 were soaked. She also refused to be buckled into the car seat. It took me twenty frustrating minutes to get her into the car seat. When we got home, I discovered that she was quite willing to dawn the size 6 diaper. I also discovered that she had pooed in the leaky swim diaper on the way home. I dress her again. This was pair of pants #3. It was time to make lunch. During lunch, Rebecca noticed that I was drinking a glass of water. She asked for water. I brought her a water sippy with a straw. She put food in her glass and called it "fish" and then she drank it (without the straw). At the end of the meal, she dumped her entire sippy cup full of water onto herself and the floor. Then it was time for pants #4 and shirt #2. Also, she had made a massive poo of ultimate grossness. Rebecca seemed quite tired and cranky, and I tried to get her to sleep. After some time of horrible noises and banging, I decided to check on her. She asked for filly, so I gave in. I was tired too! The next hour involved no sleep, except on my part. For ten minutes, she played with her door. She would open it, then shut it, then open it, then shut it. Ultimately, I decided she wasn't going to sleep. She found a colouring book and asked to colour. I decided to let her. We sat in the sunshine colouring and I hoped that peace had been achieved. It was not to be - blatant wall colour, crayon confiscation and head banging quickly came to pass. At that point I decided she was well and truly going down for a nap - but she ran away from me when I tried to pick her up. When I cornered her, she did all manner of flopping and contorting. I brought her to her room where I had to change another poopy diaper. Then I abandoned her with Bala on her bed, installed the gate, and came downstairs to write my tale of woe.
Most of today - except when crying or yelling. She was smiling and happy. It makes it harder!
Also: She climbed on the coffee table repeatedly, she threw apple skin on me, she climbed on the dining room table, and she trashed her room.
I want Greg to come home!
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