To say my daughter is a mummy's girl is an understatement of such epic proportions it could shift tectonic plates and change the shape of our world.
To say my daughter can be a bit of a madam is not an understatement, she is a bit, but it feels me with epic proportions of dread.
It is something I am keen to nip in the bud. Well a little bit.
The last thing I want is to raise a brat. But a little mischief is OK, in fact it is desirable.
And confidence, well that I'd like to give her in spades.
So, while I am in this frame of mind, imagine how I felt to be pulled aside by Isobel's nursery teacher to be told she had bitten, yes I said bitten, twice that day.
She wasn't the initiator but she did retaliate, and then in shock she cried. It's a bit of a double edge sword isn't it: you don't want her to bite but you want her to stand up for herself.
Now I get to bit all parents get to, I have the excuses...
She is having problem with her final molars, the way she gnaws on her own fingers is somewhat of a clue; she's only 1 1/2 how do you discipline a 1 1/2 year old; it's just a phase, all toddlers go through it.....
But really, I wanted to cry (completely out of proportion), I looked at her differently and I didn't know what to do.
I just wanted to do better for both of us, hey ho we'll get there. She'll train me soon enough.