Skeered

Our fearless leader (Mabel, that is, who is our leader only because she is The Boss of Us All) is just a tiny bit less fearless these days. In fact, I think I'll go out on a limb and call it a scared-of-things phase.

She's been all "I don't wanna go to school" for the past two days, which has got her exactly nowhere but school, but for all her teacher assures me that the drama is for my benefit only and she's fine once she's in (which I believe), it's increasingly hard to get her there. Putting a three-year-old into a carseat and taking her out again, and getting her to wear shoes and socks nevermind a coat, is much easier with co-operation, you know? Even a petite and bijou three-year-old like this one. On Tuesday once we'd arrived, I unclicked her carseat but each time I tried to pull an arm out of a strap she'd hook the other one back in more firmly. She obviously didn't feel that being already in the parking lot was any reason to stop the protest.

Hand-in-hand with that goes the old favourite "Carry meeeee!" that I'm hearing far too much at the moment. In addition to which, in the last day or two she has professed to be scared (sorry, "skeeered") of:

• the clock in her room
• the space under her bed
• the space beside her bed where the mattress just fails to meet the wall by an inch or two
• a wriggly thing she found outside that wasn't a worm
• spiders
• her dreams

Poor terrified child. It's a necessary phase, I suppose, and shows an expansion of her understanding to hold all those things that are unknown, as well as known. She'll settle down again soon. In the meantime, I'll probably be carrying her a bit more than I should, and bringing her scooter along as much as I can.