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  • I love watching my girl play.
    Make pretend cooking; Toy toast in the oven, hair slides in the frying pan. "yum,yum" she exclaims and sets about feeding the dog.
    Then it's playing babies. Her dollies and soft toys are pushed round the room in the buggy, they are lifted gently and placed on her changing mat and she grabs as many baby wipes as she can to attend to their 'bott-omms'. Every doll in our house is very clean....
    So far so good and so gender stereotypical, but I don't mind, she's copying what she lives.

    We read books, we play games.

    Then something, I'm not sure what, doesn't quite go to plan. Something in her world is out of synch. Did I put something in the wrong place when I tidied? don't I understand the new word she is telling me? The silence is deafening but is swiftly broken by the inconsolable wail.

    She marches over to the dollies, grabs one by the hair and throws it across the room.
    Bang! Pressure released. Two more sobs and it's back to the game in hand.

    And I sit there, watching, and thinking that she'd be better off paying more attention. If she did, she'd realise the best way to deal with frustration is to have a nice bit of cake.

    Throwing dollies out of the pram is so old school.
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