The best of times, the worst of times....

I'm sat on the kitchen stool. Which has been moved from it usual place (kitchen, obviously) to the front door.

If I don't sit on it then my two year old son will climb it in an attempt to open the door, descend the steps at the front of the house and rifle through the outdoor bins to find his 'race car' that he believes I have thrown out.

He has screamed in my face and is now trying to climb over my head.

The tantrum has been going on for 30 minutes that feels like days.

I want to cry.



This isn't what parenting should be like. I'm clearly doing something wrong. I'm as crap at this as I am at everything else.

And it goes on. And on. And on.

A tantrum of epic proportions.

Because I asked Ollie to tidy his toys. I showed him how to do it. I explained that if he did he would get a sticker on his reward chart.

And when he refused. I threatened to put the toys that were on the floor in the bin.

"Put them in the bin Mummy"

So I did.

And an hour later I'm sat wishing I'd avoided the whole bloody situation by just picking up the frickin' toys myself.

I won't. Ollie needs to learn just as all children need to learn. There is no point making a threat if I don't carry it through.

I know tantrums are normal.

But they're not nice.

Really not nice.

And you know what makes it worse?

What rubs salt in the wounds left by your child being so horrific it makes you cry?

When they're all lovely the rest of the time.

So adorable. So loving. So clever. So sweet.

When they're telling you they 'love you more'.

When they're sharing their sweets. Drawing pictures. Giving you cuddles. Eating their dinner.

When your heart is so overwhelmed with love that you feel like it's going to burst.

Those are the times I cling to in less sunny times.

For me, even though the good times outweigh the tantrums, I find myself wishing for the middle ground.

Balance.

Because when everything is wonderful in parenting paradise, the tantrums are enough to make you capsize in the storm.

This is my experience of parenting a toddler. Parenting in general. It is the best of times, an amazing time I would exchange for nothing else. A unique opportunity to witness a real human character taking form before you. A special moment which you will never have again.

But. When they're screaming and you want to scream back. When their faces are scrunched up with anger and frustration. When there is no sign of your loving child in their hot and stressed countenance.

And you feel battered by the emotions within and without.

That feels like the worst of times.

It's hard, sitting on that stool, my head resting on the door handle. Trying to remember everything the parenting books tell you about how to deal with the terrible twos. Struggling to remain calm.

I don't want to wish away these times completely.

But I am desperately awaiting the good times to return.