Mummy loves you and you (part 1)

14 December 2020 | 2 years 4 months

We were playing in the hot and sunny courtyard – Lochie, Jono and I. It was exceptionally hot but balmy under the umbrella’s shade. I had filled two tubs with warm water – one per child – and was proudly supervising my moment of success, having managed to contain two wildly energetic boys in their respective containers.

Each boy had his own bath. Each boy had his own water truck. So why was it a short-lived moment of peace? Why was Lochie so hellbent on stealing Jono’s digger instead of playing with Lochie’s excavator, and why was Jono pulling himself to lean into Lochie’s bath? “Lochie, share with Jono. Lochie, don’t cry, Jono just wants to play. Lochie, be nice to your brother.” Lochie has been hearing this all weekend. He is slowly learning that, in order to enjoy his own toys, he must first find something to occupy Jono with. This tactic, however, is not foolproof, for Jono has decided that he does not want his own toy. Jono wants whatever Lochie has, and Lochie wants whatever Jono has, and no matter what Jono has, Jono needs to touch and follow and examine what Lochie is doing, which turns Lochie into a whining monster as he roars his deep displeasure at being so stalked. They egg each other on, with varying degrees of whining and crying.

Today in the bath, despite my pleading, Lochie was insisting that all 4 water trucks were his. “Which one is Jono’s?” He shook his head and proceeded to tell me that each truck was “truck Lochie’s.” While I lectured Lochie on the virtues of sharing and being nice to his baby brother, Jono leaned over and grabbed Lochie’s shoulder. The howl of displeasure that ensued! Lochie howled at Jono and Lochie howled at mummy for telling him off. His enormous expressive eyes welled up. He stared at me from under his heavy eyelashes, eyes full of betrayal and confusion. This isn’t about the digger, is it, baby? I had to address the elephant in the room. “Lochie, the digger is Lochie’s and the digger is Jono’s, too. Mummy is Lochie’s, and mummy is Jono’s, too.”

That evening at bedtime, Lochie wanted mummy cuddles but he wasn’t sure who mummy belongs to. We played on the floor as Lochie refused to cuddle me, and I pointed to a picture of a koala hugging a baby koala. “That mummy,” Lochie said. “That mummy, that Jono.”

Aww, Lochie, you heartbreaker. That mummy and that Lochie, too!

So mummy and Lochie are still on? Yep. Lochie coyly wedged his fluffy nappy butt onto my lap and, ignoring the sticky heat, he cuddled me and would not let me go for the next hour. I did not rush him. This won’t last forever. We read mummy-baby books and alphabet books and he wanted face caresses, and mummy cuddles, more mummy cuddles, blankie, dummy, and his little digger. Every time I’d put him into his cot and start toward the door, he would ask for more mummy cuddles, pease. “Mummy cuh-dools, pease!”

Mummy will give you a little cuddle, ok? He shook his head. “Big.”