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Leaking van
Telling the truth is an important lesson for children to learn. Practising what you preach is a good one for the parents. Taking your toddler for a walk while Daddy engages in adult negotiations is the best lesson yet.
We are trying to sell our campervan. We had someone come to look at it. All we had to do was sit nicely on the bed (it poured outside) and play Uno while my husband did the talking. Sounds easy enough, only my 3 year old wanted to communicate with Eric and the first thing he said, with all the animation of an exciting tale of adventure was, “The van was leaking! The van leaking when it was raining all day at the other caravan park and...and...and it was leaking on mum and dad's bed!” I froze, panic written all over my face and because I didn't respond immediately to his honest account, he continued, in search of reinforcement. “It was leaking, wasn't it Mummy? Wasn't it?”
My husband pitched in, with a nervous laugh and a mumble, “Yeah, well we should close the window next time.” Our son looked at us, baffled. How on earth did rain get on Mum and Dad's bed through the window? Could rain really turn corners and come in sideways? Hmm...
Eric hasn't called back.
Game, set...
I know that he doesn't really have a hearing problem when he, seemingly engrossed in his own activity or thoughts, begins to referee the match. That's probably my cue too, to bite my tongue and calm the tone of my voice (despite the primal urge to win the argument – he is soooo wrong!)
Since being in each other's space 24 hours a day, our three year old can sniff an argument developing and, unlike his mother who doesn't mind the odd verbal tussle, he attempts to snuff it out immediately. “Stop it you two!” he snaps, sometimes not even pealing his eyes from Sponge Bob Squarepants. “That's enough!” He means it too. “But...but...” We find ourselves in a major role reversal, trying to plead our case with him, seek approval for our line of argument, but it's all in vain – he will have none of it. I guess at some point, as the adults and parents with a responsibility to prevent mental scarring and a fear of the non-nuclear family, we realise that we'd better comply. With teeth grit and narrowed eyes, one of us calls it quits. But don't get me wrong, no one ever concedes defeat. Just you wait till lights out...
Number twos
It's a tough decision, one that we are currently in the midst of trying to make (and trying to avoid making at the same time). Should we have another?
I remember in the week following Child number One's arrival (not sure why I have to prescribe a number...he is Only Child at present), when husband was on his generous one week Paternity Leave and baby simply slept and fed, we took a walk around the block. We pushed the stroller proudly, beaming as we went and we (get ready for it) contemplated having another. Fast forward more than three years and we are still a family of three. Why? For starters, I think we're still trying to adjust to parenthood and the changes that that has meant for us as a young couple. Then travelling (well, not just travelling but a year or so of living overseas) hit the agenda and here we are, nearly at the end of our travels and contemplating what life holds when we reach home again.
The topic comes up time and time again (during Happy Times) and each time we hit a brick wall in our decision making. Pros and cons. What is a valid reason to go back for another, to introduce another being into the family? Does simply wanting the first child to have a sibling warrant another pregnancy, birth and parenting journey? Does the age gap matter, and if so, are we getting close to the border of too big a gap to justify the sibling argument? How ready and clucky and enthused do you need to be for number 2? Do you have to wait for the same deep maternal urge or is it simply a matter of getting on with the business of expanding the family? Does a tough adjustment period with the first mean more of the same and is this a factor in the equation?
If I listen to the demands of my three year old, it looks like we're going back for another one...or two. “I want a baby sister! … and a baby brother. I want both!”
Toilet talk
"You can do it mum! Yes! Yes! Here it comes!"
It's all true. I have my own toilet coach in the form of a three year old boy. And lucky me gets this motivational talk in the privacy of my home as well as in public places...everywhere! It doesn't matter if there's no one else around or if the toilet block is overflowing with full-bladdered ladies, he cheers me on.
"Here mum, hold my hand and push."
"Well done, you did it! I'm proud of you mum." There is no more embarrassment left in me.
When the tables are turned and he is straining, the talk continues, but this time in the form of empty conversation and questioning. "Mum...there are three toilet rolls, aren't there?" "Mum, why are there three rolls?" "I think, um, that maybe I, um, yeah. Hmmm." Plop. I used to engage in such banter but now I find myself asking him to concentrate on the task at hand and encouraging him to either keep pushing, or tell me he's finished and get off the toilet. I'd rather converse over a cup of tea in the loungeroom.
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