Onto the battlefield...

I am the favorite. I don't say this with any sort of gleeful satisfaction at all. It is exhausting being the favorite.

Connah has upped his shunning of Mark lately, and The Attack - who soaks up everything Connah does like a sponge - is fast following suit.

I've done my "parental preference" research, and the general consensus is that it comes from having a strong sense of self (yay!) and learning that they are their own separate person with a bit of power to use.

Ok. Good. Important developmental milestone..... we like those.

So, we mustn't squish the sense of self stuff, but also can't let the boys wield their new found power for evil... hmmmm, more parenting greys....

We decided to keep letting them make all decisions that are relevant to them, (What clothes to wear / what cereal to choose for breakfast ect) and if they needed me to be the one that dresses them or makes them breakfast, so be it. But we also have routine tasks that Mark does for them, which are not open to debate.

This make bath time splendid fun. I really don't know why our neighbors haven't called the police to report all the screaming. It's very loud. And continuous. And goes like this:

"I WANT MUMMY TO BATH ME!!! WAAAAAAAAAAAA! I WANT MUMMY TO BRUSH MY TEETH! WAAAAAAA!!! I WANT MUMMY TO DRESS ME!!! WAAAAAAA!!!

Or, in The Attacks case, just: "WAAAAAAAAAA!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! WAAAAAAA!!!!"

It goes on long after bath time is finished, with constant accusatory stares in my direction, whilst stating: "But I wanted YOU to do it."

It's awesome fun.

The other great thing about being the favorite is the tantrums you get to enjoy. If I'm not around, the boys are great for Mark, but as soon as I appear, the little horns start peeking through their hair.

This is not to say that they are bad children. They are amazing children, they are funny and smart, polite and thoughtful, imaginative and kind - they are everything I could have hoped for if I'd known what to ask for before they were born.

Again, more developmental stuff... They play up for me, because they are most secure in my love and commitment to them. They can test these fun little aspects of their personalities out on me because they know I'll never turn away from them.
This is kind of cool, because they are also absorbing my reactions to the tantrums, so it's another chance to teach them.

But....

Sometimes, when they have been awake most of the night, have refused to get dressed so are running around naked, one wants to wear a spiderman suit but won't choose which one ("You choose mummy." ok, how about the red one. "I DON'T WANT THAT ONE!!!" Then the black one... "I DON'T WANT THAT ONE!!!" That's all we have Connah. "BUT I WANT TO WEAR A SPIDERMAN SUIT!!!"), and the other has just sat on the cat (who immediately scratched him, so he is now howling) and are then both clutching at my legs, bawling their little eyes out because they don't want rice bubbles for breakfast....

Well, sometimes it's enough just to breathe, and know that awesome will be back soon...


xox