Fickle affections

I have noticed that there comes a time in every boy's life when mummy is cast aside in favour of fresher fancies. No, I don't mean when they are teenagers, I mean the terrible twos. With each of my sons I have encountered a phase just after their second birthday when I am no longer what his heart desires.

With the oldest two, the only woman for them was my mum. I would put out my arms for my offspring and they would bat me away, whipping round to cling to my mum for dear life. If she had to prise them off her they would writhe away from me, screaming for their beloved grandma. In fact the only thing that reminded them that they had a mother was when they hurt themselves, at which point poor old granny was instantly cast aside in favour of their first love.

Thankfully, for me at least, these phases were short lived, and I only had to endure being spurned for a month or two, before they returned to my arms with renewed adoration. But I will admit that this kind of rejection was hard to take. I guess it is the price I pay for being a working mum, as they always transferred their affections to whoever looked after them while I was tied to a hot keyboard.

This time around the twins have fallen head over heels for their lovely nanny. I can't say I can blame them as she is tall, blonde and beautiful, as well as having a heart of gold. But I will admit to a pang or two when my two-year old howls with despair when his nanny says it's time for her to go home, yelling 'No mummy' at the top of his voice when she tries to hand him back to me.

The only way she was able to escape yesterday was when he banged his head, and the shock reminded him that mummy wasn't so bad after all. I am just glad I have been through this twice before, so these actions have lost their sting.

I also see a certain logic to their choices as both my mum and my nanny are much nicer than me. They try to please the boys, providing them with whatever their hearts desire and generally pampering them royally. On the other hand their mother spends most of her time distractedly drumming into them that independence is a virtue, particularly when it comes to entertaining themselves while I fiddle around on my iPhone or empty the washing machine. Perhaps it should come as more of a surprise that they are ever won back round to mummy.

Make believe

Do you remember the days when you could tell your children anything and they would believe you? At Christmas the merest whisper of a bad report to Santa and they would scuttle off to do your bidding. Tell them that babies are made with special cuddles and that was explanation enough. When they ask why they should do something 'Just because' was enough of a response. If you had a hissed row with daddy on the phone you could explain away the floods of tears by saying you got something in your eye. Boy do I miss those days.

My children are too savvy by half nowadays. Take my five-year-old. At the moment we are not watching TV for reasons to complicated to go into. Now pre-TV ban my threat to get them to make their beds was that if I came in and found duvets on the floor and toys scattered around, there would be no screen time. Cue me saying 'M, why isn't your bed made?' 'Well mummy are we still doing our no TV experiment?' he responds. 'Yes', I admit. 'So there isn't any point in me making my bed is there as I can't watch TV anyway'. The boy is only five.

I spluttered that I could easily think up another punishment and he reluctantly straightened his pillows, but we both knew he had won that battle of wits.

Next up is his big brother. I have been having some problems with my own parents recently, but believed I had thoughtfully and successfully kept them from my sons. More fool me. 'Mummy why don't you like grandma very much at the moment?' trills my seven-year-old. 'What do you mean darling?', I ask, all innocence. 'Well you did throw her out of the house didn't you?' he replies.

A slight exaggeration of events, but I will admit to some very heated exchanges of late, I just hadn't realised that he had been taking notes throughout. I had tried so hard not expose him, but he doesn't miss a trick.

Sadly, sophisticated as they are in some areas, tact is not one of them. There is simply no brake between brain and mouth and they are more than capable of repeating any waspish aside or nasty comment thrown out in anger as gospel truth, much to the detriment of my relationship with my in-laws. I am just hoping that this sign of maturity will arrive as fast as their mastery of the art of observation and negotiation have.