Doodles

Orla's new trainers. You have to call them trainers; if you refer to them as shoes, she very firmly corrects you - "no, they are my trainers." I noticed on her year ago blip yesterday that I had made a reference to seeing a child having a tantrum, and intimated that Orla never had tantrums. Well, that's because she wasn't 2 then. And in fact, we have got off quite lightly until now. But boy, is she going for it. Not in public (well, not so far anyway), but at home we've had some spectacular crying fits.

She cried for an hour the other day because I took the tiniest nibble of her breadstick. Even cast it up to me again hours later when she was about to go to bed.

She promised me that if I let her watch Peppa, she wouldn't cry. And then had a complete meltdown when I said she'd watched enough Peppa.

I left her crying for a good fifteen minutes on the landing this morning because I had the temerity to dress her when she just wanted her dressing gown on.

And then most weirdly of all, she quite happily got her coat and shoes on this morning, and climbed into her buggy, but when we got to Gran and Papa's she burst out crying: "I no going to PapaNan's. You get me out." (an accusation, ie you took me out of my buggy when I didn't want to get out). My Mum heard her crying and came out to help me, asked her what was wrong and it transpired that she wanted to go to the dentist.