Now for the first few months of this Blog I often wrote about Spud and Spike’s dislike for each other. Spud was NOT happy about having a baby brother and wouldn’t want to be any where near him. Gradually Spud realised that actually he might as well like the thing that everyone was calling “his brother” because he was in fact staying. When Spike started toddling everything changed. Suddenly Spud had a playmate. A playmate that never had to go home.
At first we noticed little changes. Spud would offer Spike a toy instead of snatching things and claiming ownership regardless of who it actually belonged to. He would get things that Spike couldn’t reach and guide him to places he wanted to go. Then they started chasing each other up and down the hallway with shrieks of delight. Then whenever we asked Spud if he loved us he would reply “No I lub Spike!”
We were very pleased at the turn of events and when Spud started asking where Spike was during nap times and saying that he missed him and wanted to play I knew my boys really were the best of friends. They still had squabbles. BOY do they have squabbles, but most of the time they are giggling away with each other and chatting in baby chatter or “secret bruva talk” as Spud calls it when I ask to be let in on their conversation.
All of this seemed very lovely and I soon settled into life as a Mum with children that entertained each other but then it started. Then I became a referee. During squabbles I was constantly exclaiming “Spud NO! Spike NO! Spud I said No!” and then it started filtering out into daily life.
The boys will be sitting quite happily at the table and one will bash cutlery whilst waiting for dinner to be served or throw their mat across the room. I will tell said boy off and rescue said cutlery. Just as I lay it down on the table the other boy will do exactly the same making the first boy laugh. He will then get told off and as I lay his cutlery back down we are back to the first boy doing it again because it’s oh so funny. We go around it circles like that with me telling them off and them thinking it is absolutely hilarious until I confiscate everything from the table.
If it was just meal times I would learn not to lay the table with them there. But it moved on to EVERYTHING. Jumping of the sofas, blowing raspberries that leave spit all over the coffee table, banging doors, raiding the shoe unit – you name it they do it together. They don’t seem to care about being told off because by the time i’ve finished the other is being naughty and making the trouble maker laugh thus forgetting that mummy is not pleased. If I put either one on the step the other tries to join him and they now spend most of their time in chatting to each other in hushed voices plotting their next attack!
In the grand scheme of things, even though I am starting to tear my hair out and have considered buying a whistle I am so glad my boys get on and that I had a small age gap, if they carry on like this they will be best friends for life.