Just to set the context, I have a stressful working week.I'm non stop busy from the minute my foot steps in to the office to when I shut down my computer at the end of the day.
I come home to my little angel, Muummmmyyy she shouts and grabs my legs for a cuddle. Here she is in all her glory, taking one of her selfies. She really is a poser (I have no idea where she gets that from).
It melts my stress away and I feel like the most blessed person on the planet. We drive home singing and chatting and almost skip into the house holding hands.
I ask Hannah what she wants for dinner. I then do as I'm told and serve her order. The SECOND her eyes see the food she starts crying.
Enter the diva!
It is complete torture. Every night she puts up such a fight, like we are making her do a bush tucker trial. We have tried the good cop, bad cop routine. Chris is stern and firm and I do silly voices as if the peas come from a place in America with a questionable accent.
She cries, gets angry, spits her food out, runs away, drinks loads of water as a stalling tactic, wants cuddles, the list goes on!
My 'stressful' day at work pales in comparison. This is what real stress feels like.
It's strange because she is fine at all other times. She will eat things at lunch that are a fight at dinner time.
I love my little diva, however when she turns three next month I hope that the terrible twos are firmly left behind!