Category: Parenting

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Tough love?

I taught my boy a tough lesson today and it almost broke me.

Youngest cub has now joined his sister at big school. The change in educational level has done wonders for him. His language has come along in leaps and bounds and so has his interpersonal behaviour.

He’s not the finished article yet and at 4, neither should he be.

We do have some challenges. He gets frustrated easily and when he does, he can lose it quite badly. Foot stamping, screaming and saying no to everything.

On Saturday, I had said that we’d finish the day with a trip to the park but this had to follow him cleaning up his room. His sister will maintain her’s on a regular basis, but he plain and flatly refuses, or states that he can’t do it without help.

person wearing pair of yellow rubber gloves
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Again, given his age I don’t expect much, just a token effort.

At times I help him, at other times I get on with other aspects of housework to show them what is required to maintain a home.

As he’s grown, we quickly (and sadly) moved from the response to the tidy your room request of ‘No thank you!’ to plain and flat ‘no’.

We never made the park.

As I had no wish to punish his sister, I told them both that we’d go after breakfast the next day.

Next morning, after a hefty porridging, they headed for the bathroom. A quick wash and then out, was the plan.

All went south after hair washing. Water in his eyes was too much to bear and foot stamping began. Followed by screaming, and then kicking his sister.

At 4 years old, he seems to be experiencing the terrible 2’s.

I won’t stand for kicking so tell him he’ll lose a star. ‘I DON’T CARE!!!’ he screams, and kicks out again.

I pick him out of the bath. He screams and stamps. I ask him to apologise to his sister. He’s in full flap and now cyclically repeats that he’s not listening to me and he never will.

Admittedly, I can feel my blood pressure rising, so I decide to remove myself from the situation. I leave him dry, but naked.

goats-competition-dispute.jpg

Eldest cub gets ready and I shave and brush my teeth. She does her hair, which takes a while. He eventually stops screaming and comes in to my room. I’m now reading and pay him no attention.

He climbs on the bed next to me and slowly attempts to capture my gaze. I change position away from him. His sister declares that she’s ready.

Right; let’s go downstairs.

‘Dad! I’m not dressed yet…’

I walk down the stairs, telling her to put her shoes on.

In his nakedness he’s smiling and laughing as we get ready. He asks me a few questions, which ignore.

He persists. I stand firm.

His sister opens the back door and heads into the garden. Still in a state of undress, he puts his coat on.

I walk away from him and step into the garden. He screams…

I stop and go back.

I bend down and hold him tight.

We have conversation about what it feels like to be ignored; I do my best to keep it simple. He says he understands.

His sister, a witness to the entire charade, comments on my ability to maintain the ruse.

As I said; I don’t believe in striking a child but I do believe in discipline.

I’m not sure if what I did was any better.

storm

BSD

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Written in the Stars

I’ve hit upon an idea, and it’s a good one.

Okay, okay, total honesty time, my daughter has hit on an idea which was actually a re-hash of how we used to do things before the split.

With her being 8 and he being 4, the usual rivalries etc. rear their heads from time to time. A household can descend into a lawless wasteland if behaviour is left unchallenged.

We’ve been going through the normal challenges that children pass through, where they exercise the human condition of testing boundaries. I am a disciplinarian, but also a humanitarian. Being brought up by a strict father (including corporal punishment) I decided way before I had the cubs that I wouldn’t be that kind of guy. After all, what does beating a child ever teach them, that the bigger and stronger person is always right?

Wrong.

I could never hit my cubs. Such outbursts smack of frustration, a lack of control and revenge for not being obeyed.

In a technique honed with my daughter, I prefer to reason things out in conversation, with age appropriate language. Tone of voice and cadence also came in to play, supported by changing facial expressions. It seemed to work. She’s well-adjusted and appears to be quite rational.

He’s a little different. He gets frustrated quickly which I suspect is linked with his rough start in life and the fact that his diction isn’t quite where it could be for a child his age; he struggles to be understood at times.

His sister can also press his buttons pretty easily and she does so often.

man doing boxing
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We had just emerged from a period of them sniping at each other, where my techniques weren’t working. I resorted to separating them and temporary banishment to respective bedrooms.

She broke the embargo to come and talk to me.

‘You know dad you should maybe bring back the star system. Every time we do something good, we get a star. When we’re not so good, you take one away.’

This was something we used to do regularly and it worked particularly well. Great idea, I told her, and gave her a hug. I also asked her why she winds her brother up all the time.

‘Because he reacts!’ she states, before heading back to her confines.

The notice board in the kitchen now has two sections. One for her and one for him. Stars are drawn for good behaviour and removed for violations. I’m not too specific as what constitutes what, as I don’t want them to escape on a technicality.

It’s been in force about a week now and seems to be working. I added the further incentive that if either got to 10 stars, I would convert those stars into pounds, or an equivalently valued treat.

If only my dad had been as inventive.

black-and-white-sport-fight-boxer

BSD

 

 

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Great Expectations?

Today I’ve been reflecting

On a conversation I had with a ex-work colleague some time ago.

Knowing me to be a doting dad, she always asks after the cubs. I give her updates whenever we catch up.

I take great pride in recalling a recent shopping trip my daughter and I had, where the command of the morning was that the only way to make progress through the shopping mall, was by stepping on rectangle floor tiles and only rectangle floor tiles. She was quite specific in this.

We held hands, shopping bags evenly distributed and made our way gingerly through the centre.

close up photography of wristwatch
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We moved with the accuracy of a Suisse timepiece. A watching Police Officer nodded his approval with a smile, whilst a retired couple commented that ‘it may take us a while’ to get where we were going.

We don’t care. This was our moment and where was the harm?

All was going well until we happened upon a large area of circular tiles. Our expedition ground to a halt. Very, very poor and inconsiderate architecture. What were they thinking?

We stood in contemplation for what seemed like an age, before I turned to her and asked, well now what?

We decided to turn back. Rules are rules.

My ex-colleague seemed puzzled. ‘Sounds like she has you wrapped around her little finger!’

Perhaps, I smiled.

I then told her that we dance a lot too. It doesn’t matter where we are. If we hear good music, we dance. We’re quite uninhibited.

man and woman dancing
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‘You do realise’ my colleague said, ‘that you’re setting the standard to which she will judge all men…’

Yes I do.

‘She might be disappointed if her partner doesn’t respond to her needs in a way that she’s become accustomed’

Perhaps.

But my daughter will also know her worth. She’s not a princess; she’s a determined individual. She will know that if her partner doesn’t give her butterflies in her stomach, knows effortlessly how to make her smile and is comfortable enough to show her his true feelings, then he’s probably not the man for her.

I’m sure I’m not growing a monster so for now, we dance, we pathfind and we make memories. This is what life is about.

After all; she is only 8.

silhouette people on beach at sunset
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BSD

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3 years on; I’ve figured it out

Why single parents are so tired.

Questions!

They come thick and fast and at any time. Now I’m a great believer in educational opportunity so I aim to inform as much as possible.

When I’m tired though….

Questions asked

 What I  should have said What I actually said
What’s your favourite colour Adults don’t tend to have favourite colours Blue
Who’s that? (TV weatherman) I’m not sure; his name will come up shortly Alan
Who’s your favourite Power Ranger I don’t really have a favourite, as I’m an adult Alan, the Purple one. You may not know him as he only fights crime on a Saturday
Where are they going (car driving the opposite way) I couldn’t possibly know that Primark
How fast can you run (after watching Usain Bolt) Fast humans can do about 20 mph Just a little slower than him
Where’s that sheep’s mum Not too far away Driving that tractor
Why’s Saturday It just is ?????
Why are those birds on the roof It’s a safe perch away from predators They’re keeping an eye on you
What keep the planet spinning Interactional forces of the magnetic poles Children eating their vegetables
Why can you see the moon during the day It’s a satellite of earth that orbits independently to our rotation It’s keeping an eye on you

I’ll set them straight before they do any exams.

BSD

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Can’t Trump that..

Driving home from a classmate’s party, the news is on the car radio.

It’s the day of two big funerals in America; the music legend Aretha Franklin, and 2008 Republican Presidential Candidate Sen. John McCain. Both events caught the headlines here in the UK and my eldest listens with interest.

The newsreader comments on the links between both the recently deceased and the sitting president of the United States.

She knows who Aretha Franklin is, but asks me about Sen. McCain.

I enlighten her.

‘Was he a good person?’

Like most people darling, he did some good things and some bad things. He wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

‘I guess no one is good or bad all the time are they?’

Exactly.

She thinks

‘Has Donald Trump done something good dad?

We both think…

She turns to me.. ‘Does he brush his teeth? that’s a good thing isn’t it dad?’

I wouldn’t bet on it darling.

BSD

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Natural History Museum

Summer holiday activities.

Now seems as good a time as any to look back at the summer holidays.

I’ve really enjoyed this break with the cubs. I managed to secure 3 week’s leave, so between me and their mum we had most of the holiday covered.

In that time, we incorporated my birthday and youngest cubs 4th.

I’m rambling…

This is a short review of one of their favourite places to visit, the Natural History Museum in London.

Getting there.

We usually catch the train into London. It’s an adventure, and they love it.

This time we drove. None of us really enjoyed that so next time we’ll make sure the train takes the strain.

Where are the dinosaurs?

The government made a great call years ago in making the museums free to visit (even a broken clock is right twice a day.. 😉)

They’re such great education centres for enquiring minds and open the door to so many questions.

There was only ever one question.

Where are the dinosaurs?

The architecture of the NHM is breathtaking. The immediate neighbourhood is home to the Science Museum, the Victoria and Albert Museum, several colleges and a string of  embassies. As you would expect, there are tourists aplenty, and its lovely to expose the cubs to so many languages.

NHM

Where are the dinosaurs?

We come in the side entrance, missing the modern normality of a bag search, as I’m not carrying anything.

Both cubs stand in silence; one by the huge skeleton of a planet, which is being fed people via an escalator; he is mesmerised by the skeleton of a stegosaurus.

steg

Where are the other dinosaurs?

The multilevel museum takes you through the ages and around the world.

I try my very best to introduce them to magma flow and tectonic plates with talk of volcanos and earthquakes, plus the planet spits out and consumes new islands constantly along fault lines, but they’re not convinced.

Can we go?

The ultimate goal is to see the dinosaurs. We follow a route that takes us through a multitude of stuffed animals, including the heads of various birds.

Eldest cub is fascinated at first, then the colour slowly drains from her face.

‘Did they kill those birds dad?’

I think some probably died of other causes but I guess you can’t rule it out.

Her brother takes immediate action to cheer her up in the best way he knows how; he sticks his bottom out, turns around and walks backwards towards her, rubbing his butt on her leg. I manage to intervene just as he goes to undo his trousers.

We stop at 3 stuffed models of a dodo. I take the opportunity to point out that they’re extinct, despite her grandmere (mother’s side of course) convincing her that dodos are alive and well on an island somewhere.

I digress…

Where are the dinosaurs?

They’re getting tired now. Apart from toilet breaks we’ve been on the move for two hours.

She wanes first. He’s still driven by the desire to see the dinos.

We enter the great hall, where only recently, the famous Diplodocus has been replaced by the skeleton of a blue whale. Its pretty impressive.

blue

Is it worth it?

Let’s face it; you’re hard pressed to beat a free attraction, especially one as well presented as the NHM.

It’s an expanse of learning, well stocked and easy to navigate. Even the multitude of gift shops are unobtrusive, offering a great range of visit mementos.

We didn’t eat on site today but if memory serves, it’s all quite reasonable for a family.

Negatives.

Hard pressed to think of any.

Take away thought.

The Harpy Eagle has talons comparable to the claws of a Brown Bear.

Things I’m thankful for.

There are no Harpy Eagles near me.

Ps. we saw the dinosaurs!

BSD

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From the Bible; it’s Jewish..

It’s the end of their stint with me for the school holidays. Having pulled my back yesterday (on my birthday!), we had what was primarily a down day.

Late afternoon I felt sorry for my caged cubs. We jumped in the car and went to our favourite park.

Parenting trick; take them out near their supper time. They’ll then naturally leave the park in search of their next meal.

I had a plan for supper but was pressed for time. At the stove, they glossed over the fact that my usual ‘come and get it’ was replaced with ‘well, that’ll have to do’.

She finishes eating first, and leans into my personal space to tell me something.

“Daddy; there’s this story in the bible, about a stranger who knocks on a man’s door…”

Quite familiar with the bible, I’m at a loss for this particular story.

She chimes on.

“A man opens the door and the stranger asked ‘do you have a space for me to sleep?’ but the man said no”

Definitely not familiar with this story.

“The stranger then says ‘but I can help you! I can cook you a wonderful meal!'”

I’m wondering if this a Samaritans remix or some stranger danger thing that has become clouded in her brain.

She continues and I continue to fork food into my face.

“So the man let’s the stranger in and he starts cooking a soup. But the stranger hadn’t brought any ingredients so instead, he popped in a magic toenail…”

At this precise moment, something in my mouth went crunch.

“and then he popped to the neighbours to get some broccoli…”

I’m not listening any more.

The final element of confusion flooded in and brought me back to reality when she tailed off with,

“I think it might be Jewish”

“no; Christian…”

She angles her head in thought.

I fear my appetite may never return.

person standing in front of food tray
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BSD

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Gender bull

Youngest cub has a favourite toy.

It’s a radio controlled car that my brother-in-law bought him for Christmas.

He loves it.

The car  is a 4×4, flippable, 360 thing that works whichever way up it is and can climb a multitude of obstacles.

We go through batteries like they were going out of fashion until I bought rechargeables, fearing that we may single-handedly destroy the planet. I didn’t want that on my conscience.

It’s really is rather good. That good, that big sister quite fancies having one.

I consulted Amazon.

Found it, or should I say, them.

Of the same theme but different sizes, colours and shapes. Result.

Then I found this one….

4girls……

Really.

So unless it’s got pink wheels and has ‘girly’ patterns, females won’t be interested?

I call bull.

My daughter just wanted an orange one.

BSD

Ps. clicking the above clicks will generate affiliate fees and may go someway to overcoming my anger towards blatant gender stereotyping and other bull. Thanks.

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It’s no coincidence..

That sleep deprivation is a form of torture.

I’m on about one hour in the last 48.

Slight exaggeration, but the post on yesterday’s day out will have to wait…