I don’t read many books on child psychology. Don’t need to. They all say the same thing: children are horrible. Rotten. More trouble than they’re worth. Which is all undeniably true. But oddly doesn’t apply to grandchildren.

However, were I to read such books, I dare say the virtually universal problem of ‘the terrible twos’ would be explained thus. That at 2 kids are partly verbal. And they’re just able to make decisions for themselves. Something adults encourage at every opportunity. And they do make decisions. Which result in the adults saying ‘NO’. And that’s when the problem starts. A problem entirely of big people’s making. Mixed messages. Basically ‘you decide and as long as its exactly what I want, then you’re fine. Otherwise forget it’. It’s called Theresa May-ing in adult context.

Lila’s first big decision yesterday morning came at about 6.40 when we came down for breakfast. Or, ‘for the first breakfast’ as the mornings are long so why impose arbitrary limits? And as I started to prepare her porridge, she went to the larder and found one of my Easter Eggs. She had no idea what it was, but it was bright, colourful, big and those designers at Cadburys know their shit. It probably stank of chocolate too, which may have had influence. And thus the first tantrum of the day began. Because I have red lines. NO CHOCOLATE BEORE 7.25!!! IS A GOLDEN RULE. Maybe 7.15 if you’re driving. It’s called ‘good (grand)parenting’.

The next issue was her daily one. We get her dressed. In her usual, shiny, spotless, pristine, perfectly matching designer outfit… but we had a refusal at the jeans. ‘No chousers’ she stated, calmly and matter-of-factly. Then she started rummaging through her little clothing bag, came up with a t-shirt that’s way too big (but it has a kiwi on it and that trumps any practical consideration) and stated: ‘wear dat’. There is no argument, no debate. This is not a democracy. Then she pulled out her spare pyjama bottoms and insisted they were the way of the catwalk. The sweater got an outright refusal. Coupled with her boots because due to a dogshit issue her shoes were binned, this is how Lila was presented to the public yesterday. I took this photo in Brent Cross where we went shoe shopping. Lila’s aunt in Berlin commented that she looks ‘homeless and lost’. But they just don’t understand ‘shabby chic’ in Germany. No concept of what ‘cool’ really looks like.

Lila and the Apple store. Uncommonly quiet. And what’s more, as well as having Lila to play with, I fulfilled my ‘one visit to Brent Cross every ten years’ quota. Which is brilliant.

Happy Friday

A xxxx