132th July - I've been punished!!

I had a day without D for the first time this Saturday.

It was marvellous. My big sister (recently turned 40 and looking good, girl!) and I headed to London for a supremely satisfying mooch round the shops and for a gossip of truly epic proportions. Of course I missed D and wondered what he was getting up to, but I realy valued the time to be me again, and not just (suburban) mama.

However, the price was a heavy one (and no, I'm not talking the amount I spent on clothes here.)
When I returned home, all shopped out and weary from a 3 hour train journey, I entered the lounge to see a baleful little D, sitting up in the middle of the shaggy rug, eyes bleary through tiredness (it was an hour after his bedtime).

I duly scooped him up for a big hug. He was stiff as a board. Then the screaming started. Oh. My. Word. I have never heard screeching like it. It was like some supernatural banshee piercing directly through the old ear drums into the brain itself. Then the beat 'em up operation started, as D began to berate me physically with his fists. Hard. Whilst still screaming. All I could see was this livid little purple face with a cavernous mouth, spewing vitriolic rage into my face whilst his hands were going like the clappers in thier mission to hit as many parts of me as humanly possible.

To add insult to injury, when handed back to his father, he calmed instantly and looked all snuggly and cosy, fixing his little furious glare upon me from below his father's chin. Hubbie looked vaguely smug, though to give him credit, he tried to hide it behind a sympathetic smile. I felt like the most rejected bit of dog poo ever. If I had possessed a kennel in the garden, I would have retreated to it, tail between legs. I felt very thoroughly in the dog house.

This continued until D eventually collapsed through tiredness at 9:30pm. And into the following morning. Then eventually, he gave it up and crawled over for a cuddle. Phew! Forgiven at last! I felt emotionally completely drained, I never would have imagined such a little lad could make me feel so utterly guilty!

However, since then, we've had full on tantrumming, we've had protests about every little thing, even touching a toy that D happened to have his eyes on is enough to produce full floods of enraged tears. Oh dear...

I can feel a tiring week coming on... and hubbie away for two nights, boo!