A Demon has invaded our Bambi like son and left that thing off Child’s Play, or one of those wet gremlins, or that thing out of Alien, or that Damien kid – behind.
Demon Take-over Toddler Timeline (yesterday):
4am: Demon invades son. Son starts hollering down the stairs that he has been possessed.
4.15am: I change his nappy. He kicks me repeatedly. He screams.
4.30am: Take him downstairs and put on some neon coloured Nickelodeon shit that makes you want to rip both eyes out and stuff them in your ears. Take a heartburn tablet for pregnancy symptoms. Quell urge to vomit.
4.35: Make toast. He won’t eat toast. He starts crying for no reason – (we will abbreviate this to CFNR for future use)
5.00: Make him a second breakfast – he won’t eat it. He CFNR.
5.00-9.20: Listen to him run up and down the three floors of the house while screaming, screeching and shouting. Listen to him throw his heaviest toys down the stairs. Watch him leap up and down on the bed. Watch him sit in his own bed wearing his bicycle helmet – screaming. He CFNR five separate times.
9.30: He breaks the TV by pulling out the wires. He screams and CFNR.
9.40: I put him back to bed.
12.00: I tentatively open the door to his room. He is curled up on the floor fast asleep – after rolling off the bed. He stands up, rubs his eyes and grins. I have exorcised the demons. Hallelujah.
We sit in his room, read stories together, he listens obediently, sweetly, smiles, laughs, babbles at me. He’s back. My gorgeous little boy is back.
12.40: I give him a bath (his favourite thing). He CFNR. He screams. He hates baths now.
12.45: Take him out of bath. Get him dressed while he kicks me in the stomach and screams. Wait for Grandpa to arrive. Grandpa is his absolute favourite person on the planet. Grandpa will fix it all. Come on Grandpa – for Fuck’s Sake. Pick it up old man!
13.00: Grandpa drops me off at a midwife appointment and takes Damien to the park. The park is his absolute favourite place on the planet.
14.00: Grandpa picks me up from appointment. He looks changed. Like he’s seen too much. Greyer, older, drained. Like someone….or something has sucked the life from him. Two year old is CFNR.
14.15: We drive to toddler’s favourite restaurant for his favourite meal. Grandpa relays that toddler CFNR several times and refused to drink or eat anything. Grandpa bought him an ice cream at the park that toddler crushed into Grandpa’s favourite jumper. Grandpa looks like he has gone off toddler slightly.
14.30: I drag toddler into restaurant (because he won’t walk anymore). He lies on the floor and screams. He CFNR. Everyone stares. I lift him up. He hits me in the face.
14.40: We sit outside so we don’t make all the patrons leave. He won’t drink his apple juice, he only wants to squeeze all the juice out and rub his hands in it while CFNR. He won’t eat his fish and chips – his favourite food – my iPhone is all that will placate him. He sits in the sun playing with my iPhone and from across the table he looks like a surly thirteen year old. Grandpa leaves to have a sleep.
14.50: Time to walk home. He walks five steps and decides he doesn’t like walking. He cries (I presume about the walking). He screams. He lies on the floor. He shouts. He turns purple. The demon is showing itself. I walk the remaining way home 40% dragging him, 60% carrying him (at six months pregnant with severe SPD). Strangers stare at the purple demon screaming in agony in my arms – hitting me in the face and kicking me in my bulbous stomach. They shake their heads at the terrible mother.
I fall through the door.
He is now so angry, upset and crying so hard he is almost being sick. He heaves and heaves.
I give him a bottle of squash.
He lies on the floor drinking it.
He does a massive shit.
We both stop.
There is nothing but silence. and the shit stench.
I sob on the sofa.
Unknown minutes later: Toddler sits up, looks at me and says “ello, gawk, gwall, gutta gwa?”
He smiles sweetly. The demon has gone again.
I change his nappy.
I give him a packet of Pom Bears. He won’t eat them.
I put on CBeebies and lie in bed rubbing my sore, swollen stomach and crying on the phone to my mum.
God Bless my mum.
She says it will last a year.
Toddler toddles about throwing toys and CFNR.
I get him ready for bed.
18.00: Fiancé comes home. Toddler hits me, kicks me and bites my arm. I tell fiancé about demon possession. Fiancé laughs – says it’s not that bad. I go nuclear on him and scream “You weren’t there man! You. weren’t. there!”
He says he will put him to bed. This makes me cry.
19.00: I watch fiancé reading ‘The Tiger who came to tea’ with son on video baby monitor. I watch toddler sit silently listening to the book and sitting sweetly next to his dad – happy. Well behaved.
It must be me then?
Toddler goes straight to sleep and fiancé and I come up with a plan re: Exorcism.
Tomorrow will be a better day.
I go to bed – and next son starts kicking me from the other side.
I take a heartburn tablet. I quell the urge to vomit.
Note to anyone planning a second baby. I suggest you do it when first child has passed the terrible two demonic possession stage – preferably when they are thirty and have watched own partner be pregnant and give birth (or have done it themselves) – and they have much more sympathy for your situation.
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