It took me over two blooming hours to get my son to sleep tonight, I know the reason why but no explanations helped. His opinion was the right one, mine was wrong.
At any other time it would have been darn cute, but tonight all I wanted was to sit on the sofa, alone, and wallow in self pity for a while.
You see today is my birthday, I'm thirty-bloody-five, practically middle aged. I estimate that's about halfway through my lifespan. If I'm lucky.
Hubby got me a playboy bunny head shaped cushion which I'd wanted for ages. A proper one, not one of those fake ones but an original.
I had a fight with Marshall over it, he thought it was a new bedtime "nud" for him and couldn't understand that it was in fact mummy's. (a nud is a cushion, rather like a blankie. My son has 4, yes 4 of them).
According to my son any time anyone has a birthday it is his birthday also. There are 35 kids in his preschool so we have this conversation a lot.
I also got a cardigan which was a great idea because I'm always cold, freezing in fact. Marshall wasn't bothered that I had a new cardigan but then clothes just aren't as interesting as a new toy or nud.
Today I had the same few questions off Marshall all day. I'm not sure whether he forgot the answer or if he was just hoping the answer would be different this time but he must have asked each question at least 100 times.
"mum, when's the party?"
"mum, can I have the rabbit nud?"
"mum, when can I have some birthday cake?"
"mum, I want to go to the playcentre, it is my birthday"
"mum, is it time for the party yet?"
The questions are still going through my head, hours after he finally fell asleep. He didn't want to sleep because he thought he would miss the party and because he hadn't had any cake.
I can understand why he thought there must be something more, we didn't do anything special. I never even got dressed or stepped foot out of the door. So to him it must have seemed like there must be more.
I just told him that sometimes mummy's don't have big birthdays with lots of presents and a party because they need to give father christmas some money so he can buy lots of presents for the boys and girls in the world and I wanted that more than I wanted a party and cake.
He believed it.
I'm now a hero, a wonder-mum because I didn't have a party or cake just so other boys and girls could have a present from father christmas.
He's proud of me.............. but not as proud as I am of him.
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1 people have experienced mischief:
nothing like chatty four year olds.
When he gets to be a grown up he won't want to have a bday every time its someone elses though.
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