The end is in sight!
After negotiating with my manager, I am now finishing work tomorrow! Hooray! I may actually have time to rest and get some energy back before the baby is born.
It also means I have 5 weeks to lick these boys I already have into shape. At the moment I am part-time Mummy, and full-time referee. I am constantly trying to break up fights that have both already started, or just about to. Riordan, I am sad to say, is a biter, and poor Bowie cops it all the time. He only bites his brother, and when he does it, he does a fine job. Bowen is currently sporting a couple of lovely dental impressions on his back (Little Man's preferred spot).
My method is two fold; I try to make Bowen aware of the situations that Riordan may bite him in (when he gets frustrated or wants something that Bowen has, or when he gets something taken away from him by Bowen) and tell him to avoid them; and after the act has been perpetrated I put Riordan in a time out. Time out isn't a concept that he particularly comprehends, but it at least removes him from the situation. I've managed to stop Bowen from biting back, especially as he seemed to prefer Riordan's face for his bite site, and I've told him to just walk away if he thinks it's going to happen.
Ooh, I haven't mentioned, my Big Boy is growing up so fast. Darren and I decided to capitalise on his interest in all things dirt bike and get him one! He is now the proud owner of a Peewee 50, his 'blue Yamaha'. Daz is a mad keen dirt biker, has been doing it for years, and there is no one that I would trust more to teach my son how to ride. He's got all the gear, a helmet, neck brace, goggles ('gobbles'!), gloves, pants and adorable little boots that he can put on and off himself. He just needs a jersey and he'll be set. We all understand that he's only three and a half, and he knows that he can only ride it when he's wearing all of his gear and Daddy is there (wearing his gear too). We've got some training wheels, but he's got to let us know when he's ready for them, so at the moment it's just riding with Daddy while he learns the brake and throttle.
Everyone has a horror story to tell me (hey, I've got one of my own, Darren was off work for 6 months with his broken wrist caused by dirt biking), but I have total faith in my husband to teach my son the right way to do things. A forkie at work was telling me of a relative of his that was in hospital for 8 months after a mini bike accident. They were testing the bike or something in the street, the dad doubling his son. Were he and his son wearing a helmet? No. Anything that happens after they get on that bike with no helmet is all their fault as far as I am concerned. My child is NEVER getting on either a motor bike or a push bike without protecting his precious head. Any of my children. If there was one thing that was drummed into me by my Policeman father it was that...
Bowen is getting stranger and stranger ideas about his new brother. He understands the concept, he's been there, done that 21 months ago. He knows that Mummy is having a baby brother for him, he's felt the kicks and hiccups, and the boys like to blow raspberries on my stomach and watch the baby react (Mini Muffin seems to get a kick out of hearing the boys laugh, and moves around heaps!). He is still under the impression that he is growing a baby in his tummy, a baby sister at that, and the baby moves around (picture a three year lifting his shirt and doing belly dancing moves, that's the baby moving) and yesterday even had the hiccups! He was also most disappointed when I came home from the PBC Expo on Saturday without a new baby. Bowie had gotten his wires crossed somehow and thought that I was bringing a baby home from the Baby Expo. I wish it was that easy!
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