So, my three night shifts are over this week but I reckon I'm still about 10 hours behind on the sleepstakes. Calulating things like that become an obsession when you've done a few overnights but not quite fully changed over your bodyclock because school picks ups/swimminglessons/cubs etc get in the way of full daytime sleeps.
Anyhow, it's the weekend. Time to catch up. My husband's away at his brother's and, to be honest, I'm going to enjoy sleeping right across the middle of the bed and not being disturbed by his coughing, fidgeting and compulsory early-rising. (I mean the waking up kind, before you get any other ideas!)
In between watching the "baie lekker" world cup coverage, going to the village fete, tennis lessons, the Saturday morning park run and trying to get my new telly to do its new-fangled online thing, there'll be lots of relaxing. I hope. Once I've sorted out the telly. You can get YouTube on it and everything - hence it's purchase in the first place - but our wifi signal seems to be either very weak or non-existent. And playing with technology is not my kind of fun when I'm short on zeds.
Nor is listening to my two beloved offspring constantly bicker. Here's where you come in, lovely reader/follower/browser/lurker. How do I stop them from picking on each other just for the mean-hearted pleasure of observing the other one lose it and get into trouble?
For background, they are very bright, healthy, energetic, football and book-loving boys aged nine and seven. We moved house in March and they now share a bedroom but it's a decent size and they each have their own half, more or less. I know #1 son actually finds some comfort in having someone else in the room with him, though he won't admit it, and #2 son idolises big bro so he's happy. But is sharing a room breeding contempt? Their baiting game seems to have spiralled ever since they moved in together. I suppose that as I relish some me-time, I can relate to that. But we want a spare room so I can blog here and put up family and friends without too much of a squash.
The usual pattern is for #1 son to make sarcastic or repetitive comments to his brother so that #2 loses his rag, hits #1 and gets told off for it. So the telling off has to stop if he's been provoked I suppose, but I'm trying to teach him to use words not fists, so how will that help?
Obviously, I try and reason with the elder boy but he's going through a very rebellious 'I'll do what I like' phase mingled with a "You don't understand Mum!" that I desperately want to nip in the bud before the dreaded teen years catch up with us. I've even emailed him as he's just got an email account so loves to see if there's a boldening of his Inbox sign when he logs in. There, I can message him at my leisure and with reasoning, appealing to the caring side of his nature.
I sometimes think that if I'd had three children rather than two, at least they'd have a distraction, but as the youngest of three himself, my husband was adamant that someone would always be picked on or left out and that would be awful. So it didn't happen. The boys have got plenty of friends. Just not that nearby.
Of course, there's also the parental guilt about what I've done to create two boys that don't get on that well all the time. Did I argue with my husband in front of them once too often? Are they imitating my occasionally sarcastic turn-of-phrase? They seem to ignore each other most of the time, but there are flashpoints in the day - like when my back is turned or I leave them sitting next to each other in the car for five minutes - when things go awry.
And I am too soft. I can't believe I got talked into buying not only four sets of Match Attax cards but also a football magazine and a comic, when we'd just discussed a new monthly pocket money regime for them so this should come out of their pocket, not mine.
This last half hour has been bliss as #2 son is glued to the new not-quite-all-working telly and #1 son has been at football training. Peace reigns. Meanwhile, I'd better batten down the hatches before everyone's home. At least our yelling at each other is revenge on the neighbours who kept me awake the other day with their noisy kitchen extension bangings about. Always a silver lining!
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