Daddy Blog: How I Lost Control Of My Castle
They say an Englishman’s home is his castle. Whoever ‘they’ are, I’m guessing they don’t have kids. Because since mine came along, it’s become abundantly clear I’m not king of this castle. Not even close.
This house is ruled by two pint-sized tyrants. Did I just call my own kids tyrants? Yes I did. They’re not, of course. They’re the apple of my eye. But boy, do they rule the roost.
That’s not to say I’m not strict with them. I play bad cop, a lot. I’m pretty hot on manners and good behaviour and have little tolerance for shrieking, squealing or whining. But there are lots of things that I let slide, simply because it’s not worth the battle. You win some, and lose some, right?
However, I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve let them win one to many.
First of all there’s the slightly awkward fact that the toddler now insists on being the winner. Of everything. All the time. Who’s going to be the first one up the stairs at bath time? She is. Who’s going to walk in front on the way to the shops? You’ve guessed it. She is.
If I’m lucky, she might let me have a slice of my own birthday cake [Copyright: Yahoo/Adam Sparks]
It works quite well in some ways; if she’s messing about and I want her to do something (finish her lunch, for example, or put her shoes on), I only have to suggest that I might be the winner and she’ll do it at triple speed.
But it always comes back to bite me in the end. For if I dare walk down the stairs first, it results in a toddler meltdown at the top of the stairs. If I have enough patience, I ride it out, because she obviously needs to learn she can’t always win. But if I’m pressed for time, the quickest way to resolve it is to retrace my steps and let her take the lead.
While I’ve accepted my lot in life as a ‘loser’, or when she’s feeling charitable, the ‘second winner’, my sacrifices don’t stop there.
I’ve lost control of the remote. It’s all Tangled now, not Top Gear. I haven’t bought new music for months. I have no idea what’s top of the charts. But I do know all the words to Do You Want To Build A Snowman.
I used to ride a motorbike. Now I drive an estate car.
Once upon a time I could eat my breakfast in peace. Now I have to share it, the toddler clambering into my lap to dig her spoon into my cereal or steal the yolk on my egg.
I remember a time my garden was for barbeques and cold beers. Now it’s filled with garish, oversized plastic toys - a slide, paddling pool, a giant pink car.
[Copyright: Yahoo/Adam Sparks]
And most of all, I used to have a wife. Don’t get me wrong, she hasn’t done a runner. But she’s too busy with the kids most of the time to finish a conversation with me.
But for all these gripes, I wouldn’t change it. For what’s the use of a castle that’s empty? Give me one that’s full to the brim with my kids, their laughter, games and yes, even their plastic toys, every single time. Well… Most of the time, anyway.
