The Toddler and I have been enjoying some quality time together recently. However, I have suddenly noticed that he has departed ‘toddler-hood’ for good. He no longer toddles, willingly accompanies me on my daily chores or sits quietly ‘brrrrming’ his cars around the playroom.
He has now evolved into an independent, confident, testosterone-fuelled little boy. I can no longer rely on him for on-demand, willing cuddles. Machine-gunning his older brother or playing rough and tumble rugby with his father is far more enjoyable than meeting the emotional needs of his hormonal mother.
Recently we were sitting together in a café enjoying some valuable time together ahead of the school holidays. He looked angelic sitting opposite me and I was delighted when an elderly lady sitting on the table beside us remarked how well behaved he was. Despite knowing that the Smartie biscuit in front of him had a lot to do with it, I found myself beaming with pride. The lady turned to him and said, “What’s your name?” The Toddler paused, looked her straight in the eye and said “James Bond.” She looked a bit puzzled and I tried laughing it off until he picked up his straw and began replicating shooting actions at her. “Bang Bang – you’re dead. I’m going to get all the baddies, because I’m a goody,” he continued. I coughed loudly, swiftly drained my coffee and left the rather shocked looking lady behind me. I could imagine her thinking – this one will have an ASBO slapped on him by the time he is four.
That night, my husband and I discussed our Toddler’s tendencies and asked ourselves what Super Nanny would be doing to curb the public shooting episodes. We talked about removing every trace of armoury from around the house. We could ban the older children from watching television, so the Toddler never catches a glimpse of Ben 10 again. We might have to work hard to persuade the two boys to exchange their war games in the field, for ‘Shops’ in the Wendy house.
In the end, we called a friend who is a more professional parent. She advised us to turn a blind eye for the time being given the amount of change that was about to occur in his little life. That night, as I was tucking him up it was hard to believe he could be anything but angelic. He lay clutching his teddy, sleeping soundly. Suddenly I caught a glimpse of something peeping out from under his pillow. I lifted it gently, only to discover a small plastic grey gun. Clearly he had armed himself ready for the 6am battle with his brother. I despair.
