Aimee Horton

When they start to fight.

Dec
01

So.  I knew the day would come.  I knew there would be bickering and fisticuffs.  I knew there would be name calling, and toys thrown.  I just thought it would be a gradual process that eased it’s self in over a course of months.

How.wrong.was.I?

The answer is very.  Over the last week or so, the arguments have got increasingly more violent.  I knew something was up about 2 months ago when Fatso was bum shuffling across the room to play with certain toys, or when suddenly The Beast was interested in the caterpillar that you push along the floor to try and entice your child to crawl (I strapped a Mars Bar on it for the fat one).  Fatso is smarter then he looks we think.  I always assumed Theo would be sneaky and sly and Larry would be fat and a bit dim about it all.  I’m not sure why, just the assumption I’d come to (this isn’t putting me in a very good light again is it?).  This doesn’t seem to be the case though.

I’ve noticed Fatso sidle (thump) across to The Beast when he’s playing with a toy and swipe it from him, often opting for the full on “head slap”.  Luckily Theo is a bit of a wimp and just wails for me.  The daily war cry is now “MUMMMAYYY GET HIM OFF MY TOOOYYYYSSS”.  This happened within half an hour of Fatty learning to crawl.

Last week it hit a new level – two fold.  First was when I was quietly trying to have a wee (and check Twitter) when just outside the en-suite door I hear a grunting noise, then a whiney noise.  A fat baby leg is protruding around the corner, and all of a sudden as if it’s timed to the second “MYYY QUAAGGGG BIKKKEEE”.  I run through the minor dilemma of stopping mid-wee to break it up, but I’m not that nice.  By the time I’m done and I’ve poked my head around the door while drying my hands, and I’m in time to see The Beast flat on his back, Fatso is body slamming him, pinning him to the floor.  The “quag” bike was being held far away by The Beast and Fatty was trying to reach for it.  I separated the fight, gave them both one of their toys, and tried to explain to Theo if Larry wants to play with one of his toys, just find him something else to distract him, he’ll play with anything Theo shows him.  We go into great detail about “yes they are YOUR toys, but he doesn’t understand, and you like playing with his toys don’t you?…” “NO”. Yeah right.

Then the other day it hit full throttle which caused me to maybe get a little bit mad.  Larry has a Fire Engine.  It’s clunky, red and loud.  Ever since Larry’s birthday Theo has been obsessed with a few of his toys, a scooter/ride on thing, and the Fire Engine.  So, he’s been playing with the Fire Engine, when he “NEEEDS A WEEEEE”, the downstairs toilet is a bit pokey and he insists I hold the door open for him and while he does his thing he leaves the toy next to the door.  A thump and a panting noise (it’s a lot of effort crawling 2 feet) approaches, a fat hard head forces its way through my legs and reaches out for the toy.  HIS toy after all.  The Fire Engine noise begins….then it happens. Mid wee The Beast turns and shouts “MY TOYYY”, the floor, the toy, my SOCK is covered.

I’m cross. I order him to finish, pull up his slightly damp pants and jeans (it’s bath time in 20 mins – I’m not just a scuffer), and send him into the kitchen, I clean up the  floor with an antibacterial wipe, squatting, and holding Fatty back with one hand on his head.  He’s getting cross HE WANTS HIS FIRE ENGINE.  The Toddler is getting cross HE WANTS HIS THE FIRE ENGINE.   I’m the crossest.  I march across the kitchen wipe the toy down and dump it on the window sill.  It’s away until the next night.

Fatso calms down when he finds a biscuit on the floor.  It’s the beasts.  I quickly make a swap to avoid a fight, but I’m too late.  The Beast sees.  He throws it on the floor and demands another one.

This continues on, with Theo getting smacked if he’s in the bath or on the floor next to him, Larry gets shouted at every time he looks at a toy.

I’m.Going.To.Go.Mad.  Shall I just lock them in their rooms now?

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