Best of Frenemies

We try to encourage the Gremlins to be best friends. As we get older we learn how important connections and relationships are, especially when times are hard and we need someone to turn to. If the children are best friends then they will always have someone there for them, because we parents aren't going to be around forever (especially if one of us decides to cash in the life insurance). But trying to get the Gremlins to agree to this lifelong contract is proving harder than we first thought.

 

When Ava was born we bought Owen so many toys it was like a June Christmas. We told him that the baby had bought them for him because she loved him very much. With some verbal prompting and gentle shoving, he reluctantly gave her a kiss on the forehead and from that day forth they became Frenemies.

 

Owen likes to show off his baby sister, he'll introduce her to complete strangers in Asda with an attitude that says "yeah look at me, I've got a sister, what have you got? A Tikka Massala? Phfft. The thing in my trolley can pump the theme tune to Balamory." He'll strut around like her mini bodyguard and if any bigger boys go near her in the park he'll be at her side like a shot, eyeballing them and tensing his weeny arms. He'll offer to fetch her yoghurts and snacks from the fridge, he'll call her to play in his bedroom, he'll take her hand when they're racing through the kitchen and he'll push her around on her trike. And we'll sit back and admire how adorable they both are...for about three seconds...

 

It didn't take us long to figure out that Owen introduces Ava to everyone in the hope that they'll take her away. He doesn't eye up what people have in their trolleys, he's measuring the space to see if she'll fit. He seeks out the bigger boys in the park and assesses whether they're strong enough to carry her, so they can grab an arm and a leg each and turf her into the sand pit. He'll fetch her a yoghurt and give her a knife to eat it with.  He'll give her a lolly, leave the wrapper on and watch her scream and try to gnaw her way through it. He'll call her upstairs to play so he can tattoo her arms in Angry Birds, shut her in the dark and scare her witless with monster noises. He'll hold her hand whilst running so he can pelt her into a wall - and when they're not holding hands he'll stick his foot out and watch her fly then slide across the room - and he'll push her on her trike so he can let go. He taught her how to slide head first on her belly down the staircase and how to jump from the back of the sofa onto the beanbag below...then yanked the beanbag away. When they're eating together, he'll gesture to her to throw food around the kitchen and when I go mad because I have Porridge dripping down my walls, his jaw will drop in practiced shock horror while he points to his grinning sister.

 

But don't be fooled by the large innocent blue eyes that belong to my two year old daughter as she can hold her own. When we're not looking, she'll sneak up behind Owen and yank him by the hair and when he lunges at her she lets out an ear-splitting piercing scream, so when we all come running we catch Owen with his hand in the air - and those innocent little bluies narrow with satisfaction as he's sent off to his bedroom. Ava will instigate a light saber fight then swipe the legs from under him and clonk him round the ears. She'll wait till he's running at full pelt through the house then slam a door in his face. She knows he'll scream if he gets his hair wet so she'll empty a jug over his head. When Owen is playing happily with his marble zone she'll dash into his room and kick down the towers before making off with half the marbles. She hit him on the head with a Barbie doll and licked his DVDs.

 

So we're not off to the best start.

 

Then again, isn't it normal for all siblings to try and choke hold each other? There are ten years between me and my brother and when I would babysit him for half an hour I would tie him to the dining table and play Cowboys and Indians. Every time we passed a gutter in the street I'd push him onto it and yell "the crocodiles will get you!" When he was a baby he fell from his high chair face first into some ice cream and I almost asphyxiated from laughing. I'd chase him from my room with a book end and take photos of him on the toilet (I still have those somewhere). But if anyone had harmed a hair on him I would've put that book end to good use (and still would).

Owen's been in Wales with his grandparents for a week and Ava hasn't asked for him once. I think she's enjoying all of Mammy and Daddy's attention without competition. Owen is being spoiled with love, attention and presents as I type but it doesn't prevent that ache of guilt from gnawing away at my gut because I get very little opportunity to shower him with my time in this way when he's home. Being the oldest, its easy for me to send him off with his cars or sit him in front of the computer whilst I attend Ava in the bath, change a nappy, dress her, undress her, fetch and carry for her and jump to her squeals. He must be tired of hearing "one minute Owen", "not now Owen" "hang on Owen" when Ava is being demanding. I can understand why he'd want to yank away the beanbag as Ava absorbs everybody's time. And when Ava is occupied, I have food to prepare or dishes to wash or bathrooms to clean or a shower to have. When Ava's in bed I have an opportunity to spend an hour with Owen on our own and give him my full attention, but by that time I'm usually ready to drop and just want to put my feet up with a Chinese and an episode of Big Brother.

So I will make a mental note to timetable in some quality one-to-one time with my son as soon as he returns home from his little holiday - and I will write that quality time onto my daily "to do" list as I don't want my boy to ever feel that he is less important than the laundry. Or a TV programme that's been pre-recorded anyway. Perhaps when Ava is slightly older and more self-sufficient and the age gap appears less relevant, perhaps with some quality time spent with both Mam and Dad together and apart, the Gremlins will stop trying to colour each other in with permanent markers and begin to look out for each other instead. I thought we'd made some progress recently when Owen said -

"Mam when I'm a grown up I'm going to marry Ava."

Although I told him that this was wrong and illegal, I thought it was sweet. Though when I asked him why he wanted to marry his sister he replied...

"Because I'll lock her in a cupboard and eat all her sweets."

Hmmm. Maybe not then. His suggestion to paint her green so she'd look like a jelly baby didn't reassure me either.