Number 2 is on its way!
The wife and I had our 12 week scan last Friday and thus we can announce to the world the hopeful May arrival. We were feeling like life had gotten a bit stale since reliably getting seven to eight hours of sleep a night and thought we'd mix it up a bit.
Henry, as expected, has been amazing. He is delighted at the prospect of being a big brother and has predicted he is going to have a baby sister. Since finding out he has spoken to and kissed the baby every day. Heart-meltingly adorable! He even took a scan photo into school today to show his class. We could not be prouder of him and we are absolutely sure he will make an awesome big brother.
Which is good, because I have no idea how we are going to cope parenting two children. One is exhausting!
Showing posts with label child development. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child development. Show all posts
Friday, 4 November 2016
Wednesday, 4 November 2015
Tantrums and tears
Picture the scene.
A father is carrying a screaming child who he has wrapped up in front of him from one end of the gardens to the car park. The child is crying out that the father is hurting him; it appears to be a firm but non-restrictive hold.
Some passers-by wince.
"That would never be our child" thinks a father. "Ah...wait. This is my child. I am that parent. Bugger."
I thought we had some tantrums during the terrible twos and I entered Henry's threes with a certain air of smugness.
"Yeah, he's had some tantrums, but nothing too bad."
Smug sod. I hate past-me.
Henry has very clearly been demonstrating that we are not in control and we are nothing like as good at this parenting thing as we thought we were. He has demonstrated some real barnstormers in the last two months. On two occasions I have worried that the incident might end in pea soup.
And here is the really difficult part to accept as a parent. No matter how patient you might be, how good your distractions might be, how much you ignore and how focussed you are on the good - three year olds get tired. And they cannot be controlled.
Nobody can be controlled, except yourself. You can attempt to create conditions that give the illusion of control, but really all you are hoping and praying for is that the child makes the choice you want to. And in this period of development, sometimes, he or she just thinks:
"To hell with what you want. I am an individual! A small, tired, incredibly vocal individual! Hear my roar!"
And all that is left for you as a parent is to weather the storm and pick up the sobbing pieces afterwards. Because once the storm has blown itself out you are left with a very vulnerable, upset little boy that doesn't really understand what just happened and needs reassurance that everything is ok in the world. It would be so easy to get caught in a vicious cycle where each other's frustration feeds and adds to the other's. The trick to parenting is securing their world and putting aside, for the moment, everything that was triggered in you - the lack of control, the frustration, the guilt and, I will admit it, the anger, and get back to being what your little boy needs you to be.
It is so very difficult, but so very important. Acknowledging we are human is not something we do often enough as parents. Emily and I are very lucky to have each other, close family and friends with children of a similar age that we can share stories with, offload and seek advice without fear of judgement. I dread to think what it would be like without them and I appreciate them every day.
A father is carrying a screaming child who he has wrapped up in front of him from one end of the gardens to the car park. The child is crying out that the father is hurting him; it appears to be a firm but non-restrictive hold.
Some passers-by wince.
"That would never be our child" thinks a father. "Ah...wait. This is my child. I am that parent. Bugger."
I thought we had some tantrums during the terrible twos and I entered Henry's threes with a certain air of smugness.
"Yeah, he's had some tantrums, but nothing too bad."
Smug sod. I hate past-me.
Henry has very clearly been demonstrating that we are not in control and we are nothing like as good at this parenting thing as we thought we were. He has demonstrated some real barnstormers in the last two months. On two occasions I have worried that the incident might end in pea soup.
And here is the really difficult part to accept as a parent. No matter how patient you might be, how good your distractions might be, how much you ignore and how focussed you are on the good - three year olds get tired. And they cannot be controlled.
Nobody can be controlled, except yourself. You can attempt to create conditions that give the illusion of control, but really all you are hoping and praying for is that the child makes the choice you want to. And in this period of development, sometimes, he or she just thinks:
"To hell with what you want. I am an individual! A small, tired, incredibly vocal individual! Hear my roar!"
And all that is left for you as a parent is to weather the storm and pick up the sobbing pieces afterwards. Because once the storm has blown itself out you are left with a very vulnerable, upset little boy that doesn't really understand what just happened and needs reassurance that everything is ok in the world. It would be so easy to get caught in a vicious cycle where each other's frustration feeds and adds to the other's. The trick to parenting is securing their world and putting aside, for the moment, everything that was triggered in you - the lack of control, the frustration, the guilt and, I will admit it, the anger, and get back to being what your little boy needs you to be.
It is so very difficult, but so very important. Acknowledging we are human is not something we do often enough as parents. Emily and I are very lucky to have each other, close family and friends with children of a similar age that we can share stories with, offload and seek advice without fear of judgement. I dread to think what it would be like without them and I appreciate them every day.
Friday, 18 April 2014
Henry - this isn't space, everybody can hear you scream
We are going through quite a special stage with Henry. High pitched, ear piercing, glass shattering screaming. Seemingly out of the blue, without warning Henry will let rip with a banshee cry.
Why?!
I have no idea what purpose it serves, I have not found a strategy to prevent him from doing it, a stern word sometimes stops it being instantly repeated but not always. We cannot work out what it's about, or what to do about it.
Other parents have told us their children went through this stage, but I can honestly say I have never heard a child like him in the past. Generally, he is noisty and loud and the sound is one of excited, happy amazement. This feels like it has evolved simply to push our buttons. And, perhaps, therein lies the solution? Yet, ignoring it does not make it go away
This may sound relatively minor but that is only because you are reading this and not hearing that. It has got to a point, recently, where Emily would not come to dinner in a hotel because people seemed to move away from us. Now, I am fairly robust as a person and parent, but that really does make you wish you were not there when people move away!
This seems just an opportunity to offload - unless anybody has a suggestion? All would be gratefully received!
Why?!
I have no idea what purpose it serves, I have not found a strategy to prevent him from doing it, a stern word sometimes stops it being instantly repeated but not always. We cannot work out what it's about, or what to do about it.
Other parents have told us their children went through this stage, but I can honestly say I have never heard a child like him in the past. Generally, he is noisty and loud and the sound is one of excited, happy amazement. This feels like it has evolved simply to push our buttons. And, perhaps, therein lies the solution? Yet, ignoring it does not make it go away
This may sound relatively minor but that is only because you are reading this and not hearing that. It has got to a point, recently, where Emily would not come to dinner in a hotel because people seemed to move away from us. Now, I am fairly robust as a person and parent, but that really does make you wish you were not there when people move away!
This seems just an opportunity to offload - unless anybody has a suggestion? All would be gratefully received!
Thursday, 26 July 2012
Tantrum?
In the past I have considered when does a child become a child - i.e. when do they move from simply a mass of cells into something with a consciousness? I did not provide an answer, I am not sure there is one to be honest.
However, is there one for when a behavioural reaction becomes a tantrum?! Friends of ours have ascribed their four week old screaming and kicking to a tantrum. Emily and I do not think that's right. One of the things that we have learnt since having Henry is that:
1) You change your mind about everything you thought you would hold dear.
2) Everybody, and I do mean everybody, has an opinion. Be they friends, neighbours, passers-by, everybody think they know how it should be done.
3) When you watch other people you think "ooo...I wouldn't have done that..." In this, though see point 2 above!
But when does a tantrum become one? We had a long chat about what the difference between a tantrum and a baby screaming was...we found it difficult to draw the line. The issue is that they are both behavioural expressions of when something is wrong. What we think the crux of the matter is, is the ability to access other strategies, such as talking about it, that are not available to a baby. But it is far from decided in our household.
However, is there one for when a behavioural reaction becomes a tantrum?! Friends of ours have ascribed their four week old screaming and kicking to a tantrum. Emily and I do not think that's right. One of the things that we have learnt since having Henry is that:
1) You change your mind about everything you thought you would hold dear.
2) Everybody, and I do mean everybody, has an opinion. Be they friends, neighbours, passers-by, everybody think they know how it should be done.
3) When you watch other people you think "ooo...I wouldn't have done that..." In this, though see point 2 above!
But when does a tantrum become one? We had a long chat about what the difference between a tantrum and a baby screaming was...we found it difficult to draw the line. The issue is that they are both behavioural expressions of when something is wrong. What we think the crux of the matter is, is the ability to access other strategies, such as talking about it, that are not available to a baby. But it is far from decided in our household.
Monday, 16 July 2012
Oh, they grow up so fast!
Henry is at an amazing stage. He smiles, beginning to have good head control, and, amazingly, babbles away in full conversations with us. We get to kiss him all over and have bath times with him. If he gets crabby he goes up onto a shoulder (although this has resulted in a number of top changes) and gets taken for a walk - around the garden is a sure fire calmer for all but the most serious of ailments.
I was standing in the shower this morning thinking about all of this and worrying, again, about him growing up and only getting to experience those moments in my memories.
It actually offered me some insight into why people, even in these modern times, have large families. These days are so precious with Henry, dependent on us and attachments emerging. I am tremendously excited about all that is to come, but these few months where a silly noise is enough to get a smile (and I will do ANYTHING for one of his smiles), a kiss is enough to get a giggle, he looks for you as you leave and is fascinated by his own hands, are so short. When he is a bit older, moving around and talking I know I will miss these days. I'm fairly sure I will feel like this at every stage of his life. But there does seem to be something particularly precious about these first few months.
A biological imperative? Probably. Do I care if it is? Certainly not! My little boy is waiting for a silly voice and a kiss on the lips - there are more important things to be worried about!
I was standing in the shower this morning thinking about all of this and worrying, again, about him growing up and only getting to experience those moments in my memories.
It actually offered me some insight into why people, even in these modern times, have large families. These days are so precious with Henry, dependent on us and attachments emerging. I am tremendously excited about all that is to come, but these few months where a silly noise is enough to get a smile (and I will do ANYTHING for one of his smiles), a kiss is enough to get a giggle, he looks for you as you leave and is fascinated by his own hands, are so short. When he is a bit older, moving around and talking I know I will miss these days. I'm fairly sure I will feel like this at every stage of his life. But there does seem to be something particularly precious about these first few months.
A biological imperative? Probably. Do I care if it is? Certainly not! My little boy is waiting for a silly voice and a kiss on the lips - there are more important things to be worried about!
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