I’m sat in the back of the car alongside littlest bruv. Eldest son and daddybear share the front of the car listening to the kerrang cd (not child friendly) and making small talk. Bigbruv is capable you see of noticing the tension and has the social skills required to try and passify mildly pissed off parents. Littlest bruv on the other hand wrote the rule book for being able to ever so sneakily push parents closer to the edge of bat-shit crazy and this joyous Sunday morning has been a fine example.
Some context… both boys have rugby matches to get to, we have to leave by 9, mummagrizzlybear had kits out and ready last night (sorted that during the sleep stand off, see previous post), unexpectedly we all slept through and daddybear and I were woken with cuddles in bed from Roo. So far so good. Cue getting PDA Roo ready to go somewhere he does actually want to go. ‘Normal’ families won’t get this… at worst what they’ll have is hyper excited kiddos but in our house the avoidance and anxiety starts. First hurdle is overcome by just getting him dressed instead of requesting he perform this task independently. Second hurdle, although very familiar, always stumps me; he refuses to eat. Or more accurately, he refuses to eat anything I offer and makes demands for things I’m not prepared to make on this occasion because we want to get out the door and to be quite honest I’ve engaged in a mummagrizzlybear vs PDA battle. Damn it. I’ve locked horns. It’s another stand off. Daddybear distracts and takes littlebruv with him to walk the dogs. Biggestbruv compliantly eats the breakfast on offer (despite probably also wanting to request an alternative but socially aware enough to not dare) and we await the return of Roo, which will be when we start trying our array of tactics, because every mum knows, it hurts more to see your kiddo not eat than it does to cut your own arm off. What is it with our need to feed to feel competent? Yes, he has a rugby match to play and this would undoubtedly be better with food inside him but on the other hand he is seriously not wasting away and I know myself (with a logical head on) that when I’m anxious I don’t fancy eating. But nevertheless we try to encourage food intake. At one stage daddybear pulls out the relationship cock up card of offering to surrender to his demands for a cooked breaky alternative after I have made it quite clear I’m not in the Sunday funday mood to be dictated to and manipulated by PDA (for today anyway!) Then after some mild mumbling between adults I try the most recent tactic which has been helpful, telling him he can ‘beat his pda’, ‘ show it who’s boss’ and eat even though his pda is telling him not to. It almost worked. Now we’re approaching needing to leave so I pull out the big guns and suggest we leave without feeding the urchin, but throw in the ‘threat’ of no kindle for the car journey. In a mix of panic, frustration and anger littlest bruv then finds himself presented with a bowl of cereal (the very cereal he demanded I buy only 2 days previous) and so long as no one actually congratulates him on being compliant, he verbally refuses it whilst putting the spoon to his mouth. And that’s how you get PDA Roo to eat before you take him somewhere he wants to go. Wait for the entry on when it’s somewhere he DOESN’T want to go! We’re now almost late so just for added effect and to punish me for winning the battle, an object is lobbed across the room knocking the full beaker of juice across the lounge floor and as I mop up silently refusing to engage in this battle (because let’s face it we have to leave) he climbs into the back of the car making threats to hurt biggestbruv… Cue a rialled mummagrizzlybear who gets into car wanting apologies… And sincere ones at that…fat chance!
So, we’ve arrived. Roo still glued to the kindle games (well he did eat in the end!) Biggestbruv is nervous (excited) but at least not car sick (hence his shot gun seating). Daddybear announced we’re early (ha!) so I continue to blog hopeful that without communicating about it daddybear will instinctively know that I want him to take charge of littlest bruv so I don’t engage in any further battles! P.s. I feel car sick in the back… nothing to do with blogging as we drive!