My mild-mannered little angel has, over the course of the last few weeks, turned into a little demon child.

When she’s angry, she’s very very angry. I have been sent to time out numerous times throughout the day; usually for telling her she can’t do something. (like walk along the edge of the settee. Seriously, how can that even be fun?)

When she’s happy, she’s very very happy. So far we’ve had loads of giggles and no hiccups with them. Part of me is hoping they’re gone now, but I know it just takes one particularly big giggle. Nonetheless I’m welcoming proper laughs, they’re the best.

(edited to add, no sooner had I posted this, and she had a huge giggle and hiccup, so we’re not over that just yet)

When she’s stompy, she’s very very stompy. Earlier today I had to remind her who was in charge. “Stomp one more time and I’m taking away your disco finger lights!” I threatened. She didn’t do it any more. So far the threat of removal of toys is working. Other things, lesser so.

When she’s cheeky, she’s very very cheeky. In the park today I suggested we go and look for acorns and conkers. We were both a bit bored of standing watching her climb (again!) on the frames, and wanted to do something as a family. So we both turned around and said “okay, we’re going now, see you later” to which she replied “okay, have a nice time!” and waved at us. Sigh. When she was three she’d have got down from that climbing frame and joined us. We need a new trick.

When she’s funny, she’s very very funny. As part of them learning to form letters correctly at school she has little rhymes about each one. D involves drawing a circle around a bottom on a dinosaur which makes her giggle every time like she’s said something naughty. It’s quite funny, in a very cutesy way. She’ll clamp her hand over her mouth, giggle, hunch up her shoulders and giggle again. I don’t want her to grow out of that.

When she’s ignoring us, she pretends we aren’t there. Toy removal and the threat of is working to some extent, but generally she’s got her own agenda now. It takes at least three asks before she responds. It’s like someone has flicked a switch on her. She’s getting very good at ignoring us now.

When she’s losing, she’s an appalling loser. We were at a party last weekend when she was one of the first out in Musical Bumps, crying in disappointment on my knee at her own failure to win. That was it really. After that she won the next two games and I’m not sure how much of that is due to everyone being too scared to tell her she was out. I am now going to teach the lesson that it’s okay for others to win and you not to. Wish me luck. I may need wine.

When she’s lovely, she’s very very lovely. That’s my girl. Full of kisses and cuddles and love for mummy and daddy. That’s how I’d like it to stay, but as she grows up I know it’s not going to be this way forever.