Scene: last week at Big Miss' new school for story time. First thing in the morning, so we are all fresh and rested, right? Story time is some library sessions to help with familiarisation for the next big phase of life. Oh. My. Goodness-Golly-Gosh, are we almost there already?
Anyway, Little Miss was in a right cranky state, so not so rested and refreshed. She was just in one of those moods. Not to be cajoled or coerced into doing anything she didn't want to do. Including, but not limited to...
-sitting quietly listening to the story
-sitting quietly looking at her own books
-sitting quietly pulling any number of books off the shelves
Instead, she insisted on doing that voice escalating whiny thing when I tried to contain her or entertain her or distract her in any way. Then cry rather loudly when it didn't go her way. Did I mention this was story time? With big kids sitting quietly (trying) to listen to the teacher drone on about a hungry caterpillar? So I removed us. Left Big Miss ashen faced to fend for herself in the big scary library all alone. But Little Miss was having none of it. By this time she was screeching and disturbing all manner of other classes from the corridor.
Finally, I could see the after story activity was beginning and I ventured back into the class room with my own hungry caterpillar. I set her on the floor, and she spied my stash of apple in the bag for Ron. Later Ron. So, saying no, as this was a library afterall and slobbery sticky apple fingers are generally frowned upon, I braced myself for the onslaught. It came. I distracted, I gave her textas for God's sake, THAT is how desperate this situation was becoming. Because I am no texta giving mama, that is for freakin sure. So upon noticing that fruit and cordial had been brought in for the morning tea, I decided that apple could indeed be my friend.
So, I asked Little Miss the question, that stupidly, I thought I knew the answer to.
Me: stop crying, use your words, tell me what you want (as I hold her hands out of my bag as they rummage for the apple containter)
[Room goes deathly silent at this precise moment, as they do at crucial moments of humiliation]
Her: (loudly, and oh so very clearly) BOOOBEEE!!!
Yes, I am still breastfeeding my 20 month old princess.
And no, I actually didn't give her what she wanted. This time anyway. I clearly give in elsewhere or she'd be weaned already!
Just squared my shoulders and dared silently for anyone to have a go! They didn't. Could obviously see I'd had a gutful at the ancient time of 10.15am and would cop a death stare from me if they tried it on.
Not sure we'll be going next week, not unless I can farm her out first.... any takers??