From 10 to 1 and back up again...

So, I’ve decided to start the New Year by introducing some more rigid boundaries for my children. I announced this proudly to a good friend the other day, who politely pointed out that as my eldest is four, perhaps four years ago would have been the time to start thinking of boundary introduction. A fair point.

Don’t get me wrong, I do have some. Like they’re not allowed to eat upstairs and they can only watch three episodes of Peppa Pig in a row in order to keep me out of a mental institution. But certain things have slipped of late, meaning that my son is frequently found snoring in between The Husband and I at 3.30am and my two year old daughter often addresses me like I’m a sista from her ghetto.

So this week I have dusted the naughty step, ready and waiting for tiny bottoms to perch on it.  Mwah ha ha….

Trouble is, my son is exceptionally laid back, reasonably bright and – it turns out - rather manipulative. And what happens is this:

ME: ‘If you don’t go and clean your teeth now I will take away your fire engine’.

HIM: (Nothing).

ME: ‘I’m going to count to 10’

(I know most kids get three, but he needs 10 – purely because it takes until I’ve got to three for him to even notice I’ve started to count).

HIM: A fixed look, right into my eyes of – I’m not even sure what – just chilling in da crib, boredom, exasperation, puzzlement and, above all, stubbornness.

At four, he knows exactly what’s going on here and he knows exactly what the consequences are.  He just doesn’t care. You can almost see his little brain through the backs of his eyes, working it all out and saying to itself ‘You know what? Fuck the fire engine’.

And when they genuinely don’t give a shit, it’s kind of hard to know where to go with the discipline isn’t it?

To add insult to injury, there was a fight in the bath last night as he wouldn't share the toys when asked nicely by his little sister. As I go to fetch a towel I hear a clumsy little toddler voice say ‘You do your told, I count to ten…one….two…three’. Brilliant, now my two year old daughter is taking the piss out of me.

And you know what? He bloody well did as he was told.

...and Three's a Crowd

I think I may have seen The Light. The Light of hope and promise that people talk about when your second child turns two. The Light you think about when you're pacing the landing with your crying baby, knowing your older child will be up at six. I think I've had a glimpse of it.

My children have been playing together for 45 minutes. All by themselves. Upstairs. Knowing that absent, quiet children under five usually means mischief, I have been to check. They have not climbed onto something they shouldn't. They have not found my Elizabeth Arden Eight Hour Cream and squeezed it along the bathroom tiles 'Like little worms, Mummy'. They are playing nicely. Properly playing and talking to each other. As I write, I can hear the cadence of their little voices and, so far, not once have I heard the shout of 'MINE!' I have tidied the kitchen, had a proper plunge coffee and read The Week cover to cover. For the first time in nearly four years, I'm actually feeling a little surplus to (their) requirements.

I'm almost reluctant to write this down for fear of setting off some sort of Sod's Law alarm which'll rattle me out of my smugness. But I think we might have arrived at the elusive 'There'. This is where people with The Knowledge promised me and The Husband we would get to, when we appeared grey faced and red eyed on most public outings during the first year of two children.

And if we are 'There', where things get a little more manageable, perhaps we can start some of those things we promised ourselves we'd do and get back some of that stuff we once did. Inside my mind is now a mini-landslide of excitement - might we soon be able to go for brunch with the Sunday papers whilst the children chat happily to each other? Could we possibly both get a weekend lie-in beyond 8am, if we leave out some raisin boxes and a selection of lurid plastic toys on the kitchen table?

But then a little voice says, if we are ALREADY Here, at 'There', it means our children are growing up. And all that Knowledge does is make me want another baby.