My daughter didn’t want to use the pot for a very long time. It just so happened that we grew up slowly, and our priest was tiny. She just fell through even the smallest pot. Therefore, we were terribly afraid of him.
Masha screamed in such a way that I was already afraid to plant it there, so as not to injure my psyche and cause a backlash of the pot / fear. That was my long nightmare. Almost a year. The pot stood peacefully in the corner. Daughter avoided his tenth road. In general, there was a non-aggression tactic between them.
Once a miracle happened! At some children’s forum, I came across a doll that eats and pisses. Comes with a bottle and a pot! Run ran to buy. Although the hope that it will work, was scanty. I thought – we will feed the doll with a spoon, water it from a bottle, and then gradually accustom it to the pot.
My daughter beat me. Rather, the doll ahead of her. As soon as a bottle of milk was given out, the baby started feeding on … my granddaughter, so to speak. And the doll, not long in coming, released a puddle like a real baby – how many it ate, and so much gave it away. I remembered the indignant lustling of the daughter for life: Mom, she did write me. .
Since then, we have been sitting on the pot three. Daughter, doll and me with them. Thank you granddaughter.
The next problem arose now, when the daughter is almost six years old. We are not taken to the kindergarten and we are at home all the time. Well, since mom is also at home all the time, the only entertainment center is she, I mean. And not a moment’s peace: Mom, tell me, mom, show, mom, draw, mom, read, mom, and plasticine?
Remember a bear fishing in a cartoon about Masha? In-in, I went out into the yard, growling like that bear, went home and sculpted, read, painted, explained …
Second granddaughter – baby
But work, too, once necessary. Being a guest of some acquaintances, I saw a girl, slightly older than mine, playing with a doll that sounded like a newborn. I began to ask her what kind of pupa she was able to do. In general, Santa Claus and gave us this.
At first we were touched and lisped. And then, to my request to bring something, Mas boldly declared Mom, well, my daughter is crying! I can not throw a child !. So there was an opportunity for mom to work!
Who would have told me in my five or six years that at thirty I would play dolls? And it is necessary. Here they are daughters and mothers.