He's only just 3 feet tall but he can send me from a serene, zen-like state of motherhood to screaming harpydom in 3 seconds flat! Here's why......
He only eats beige food.
I'm being serious. The boy is all about the carbs. His staple diet consists of pasta (plain, no sauce) and butter sandwiches! Sometimes if we're lucky he'll eat a cocktail sausage or some cucumber. He eats scrambled eggs (his only source of protein!) and bananas, both of which are pale yellow bordering on the beige! EXCEPT if we're out. At a restaurant he'll eat pizza and pasta, with sauce! Both of which are "yucky" at home. Even MORE infuriatingly at nursery he'll put away cottage pie, Thai curry, fruity chicken, and beef stroganoff....!! Beast!
My four year old has a seven year old older sibling. That makes for a LOT of bickering. Cue He said/She said.... He hit me, she started it, he won't share, she's got my <insert name of toy here>.... MAKE IT STOP!!!!! Sometimes I feel like a WWF referee crossed with a UN peace negotiator! Which leads to....
Why do four year olds whine so much? Why do they repeat this whining at incremental volumes until someone responds? Why does the whining start as soon as I sit on the toilet or start cooking? Also.... Why must he hang off my leg while whining?!
The "I need a wee" dance
Don't tell me you need a bloody wee, just get in the toilet and do it!!!!! You're more than capable. And while we're on the subject, when you're doing a stand-up wee, remember to point your winky away from your body (and pants, trousers and shoes!) Also - do you have an alarm that goes off as soon as I put shampoo in my hair that means you need a poo? So I have to drip water and suds all over the place while I wipe your bottom.
"No!", "You are NOT my best friend!" And "I'm not coming to your party!"
The strops thrown by a four year old are immense. I'm talking full on foot stamping, arm folding, frowning, yelling stropdom. Everything from having to tidy his room, to trying new food and bedtime can result in a fully fledged tantrum. Luckily it's done and dusted in seconds, as is the way with boys, but I have been known to step over him while he's writhing on the floor shrieking about how it's not fair....(if I can hear him, he's still alive!)
Having said all that, The Wilburbeast is my bundle of boyness, and whatever he throws at me - with one smile, huggle or sweaty kiss I'm transformed, from screaming harpydom to giggling, tickling mummy.
Yes, I know he's got me wrapped around his finger, they both have; I wouldn't have it any other way.