I actually can’t take it anymore.
It’s a joke.
My paella-chomping, seabass-munching, all-vegetable-orgy-consuming one-year-old has completely f*@king vanished… And been replaced by a two-year-old who insists on every meal time accompanied by Iggle Piggle, her fairy wand and a rendition of Peppa’s Snowy [email protected]*king Adventure. (KILL. ME.) And will eat ONLY sausages, pizza, raspberries, cake and yoghurt.
The cats now circle the highchair at dinner time awaiting the imminent overspill of a rejected chicken risotto shower or a catapulted fish finger… Trust has completely broken down. If I place something other than the aforementioned ‘safe-list’ in front of the toddler, I’m met with a stern ‘NO‘. Followed by a complacent finger wag, an eye-roll, a tut and a series of other humiliating ‘if you think I’m eating that, you’re even more of a twat than I thought…’ noises/actions until it’s removed and I cave with a Petit Filous offering… Again. *sobs*
What am I supposed to do? I feel like I’ve tried EVERYTHING.
So… unless someone wants to swap toddlers, I’m at a total loss… And now officially bound to a life-time of pizza-sausage-yoghurt meals… washed down with gin, a loss of self-respect and a healthy dose of mummy-failure to boot.