What is going on this morning?
For the past two weeks TJ has insisted on only eating one type of cereal - Weetabix - that's it. Nothing else, just Weetabox... Until today. Today he took one look at the golden Wheaty goodness in his bowl and said, 'I hate that - I wanted Shreddies!' Yet, only a few weeks ago I was called by his teacher at school as TJ had been crying all morning, the reason? He hated Shreddies... I kid you not!
Now food and TJ has always been a difficult mix - TJ has a disorder which makes swallowing and therefore, eating quite a chore for him, so we never force him to eat and sometimes meals can take a long time - up to two hours! However, TJ is also incredibly stubborn and once he decides he doesn't like something or doesn't want to do anything then it can be a nightmare. This morning was obviously going to be one of those days.
It didn't help that last night, while KC was at drama with the impossibly cheerful drama teacher, TJ had to come shopping with me. Like most parents I bribe my children around the supermarket. My favourite reply to 'What do I get if I'm good?' has always been, 'A happy Daddy!' Last night that wasn't working. Last night TJ pulled out all the stops - instead of the usual whinging and whining his way around the store - which just infuriates me and we end up falling out, he did the reverse. He was helpful! Firstly, I nearly fell into the trolley in shock and then I found I quite enjoyed this new shopping experience. He got the eggs for me, ran ahead to get the bread and even waited patiently while I queued for cheese. We got to the check out and he helped with the bags and then sat quietly on a bench whilst I packed. 'What a good boy,' the lady of the check out remarked. 'Yes,' I repleid, 'but I know he is plotting something.' The lady looked at me with disgust as if to ask how I could possibly doubt this little blonde angel, who by now was sitting directly under a spotlight and was backlit - so he did look slightly heavenly. We went to leave when TJ quietly said, 'Oh the toys are over there, I wonder if they have a football toy?' Ah - now the reality. As anyone will tell you (especially Papa) I am the pushover in our family. 'Ok, lets go and look at them,' I said.
But once again TJ fooled me. Instead of going for the most expensive thing on the shelf, as expected, he pulled out a little silver 'Roy of the Rovers' novelty trophy mug. 'I think I would like this,' he said. I looked at the price, a final reduction to £2 - result. 'Ok,' I said, ' thats fine, you've been really good today so I can let you have that.' 'Hooray!' he shouted, 'Now Arsenal finally have a trophy!' The man next to us nearly fell over laughing....
Of course, that led to repercussions in the car. As soon as KC got in - completely hyper after an hour with the impossibly cheerful teacher - the first thing he said was, 'What did I get?'
'You got a drama lesson,' I told her. He thought about this and burst into tears -'I dont' get anything, TJ gets everything, you hate me and you love him more...' etc etc. I was trying to drive so I said, 'KC take a look at the price tag, what does it say?'
She stopped crying, 'It says the number 2,' she replied. 'Right,' I said, 'Then you can have your £2 pocket money when we get home, ok?'
'Good,' she said, 'because I want a CD.' I think someone will be learning the value of money very soon.
For the past two weeks TJ has insisted on only eating one type of cereal - Weetabix - that's it. Nothing else, just Weetabox... Until today. Today he took one look at the golden Wheaty goodness in his bowl and said, 'I hate that - I wanted Shreddies!' Yet, only a few weeks ago I was called by his teacher at school as TJ had been crying all morning, the reason? He hated Shreddies... I kid you not!
Now food and TJ has always been a difficult mix - TJ has a disorder which makes swallowing and therefore, eating quite a chore for him, so we never force him to eat and sometimes meals can take a long time - up to two hours! However, TJ is also incredibly stubborn and once he decides he doesn't like something or doesn't want to do anything then it can be a nightmare. This morning was obviously going to be one of those days.
It didn't help that last night, while KC was at drama with the impossibly cheerful drama teacher, TJ had to come shopping with me. Like most parents I bribe my children around the supermarket. My favourite reply to 'What do I get if I'm good?' has always been, 'A happy Daddy!' Last night that wasn't working. Last night TJ pulled out all the stops - instead of the usual whinging and whining his way around the store - which just infuriates me and we end up falling out, he did the reverse. He was helpful! Firstly, I nearly fell into the trolley in shock and then I found I quite enjoyed this new shopping experience. He got the eggs for me, ran ahead to get the bread and even waited patiently while I queued for cheese. We got to the check out and he helped with the bags and then sat quietly on a bench whilst I packed. 'What a good boy,' the lady of the check out remarked. 'Yes,' I repleid, 'but I know he is plotting something.' The lady looked at me with disgust as if to ask how I could possibly doubt this little blonde angel, who by now was sitting directly under a spotlight and was backlit - so he did look slightly heavenly. We went to leave when TJ quietly said, 'Oh the toys are over there, I wonder if they have a football toy?' Ah - now the reality. As anyone will tell you (especially Papa) I am the pushover in our family. 'Ok, lets go and look at them,' I said.
But once again TJ fooled me. Instead of going for the most expensive thing on the shelf, as expected, he pulled out a little silver 'Roy of the Rovers' novelty trophy mug. 'I think I would like this,' he said. I looked at the price, a final reduction to £2 - result. 'Ok,' I said, ' thats fine, you've been really good today so I can let you have that.' 'Hooray!' he shouted, 'Now Arsenal finally have a trophy!' The man next to us nearly fell over laughing....
Of course, that led to repercussions in the car. As soon as KC got in - completely hyper after an hour with the impossibly cheerful teacher - the first thing he said was, 'What did I get?'
'You got a drama lesson,' I told her. He thought about this and burst into tears -'I dont' get anything, TJ gets everything, you hate me and you love him more...' etc etc. I was trying to drive so I said, 'KC take a look at the price tag, what does it say?'
She stopped crying, 'It says the number 2,' she replied. 'Right,' I said, 'Then you can have your £2 pocket money when we get home, ok?'
'Good,' she said, 'because I want a CD.' I think someone will be learning the value of money very soon.
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