Only Love Can Break Your Heart

Only Love Can Break Your Heart

This song, by Saint Etienne, is important to me for a variety of reasons. First of all I love it!

and second, so does The Daddy One enough that it was an influence for us in choosing Middle Small's real name. In addition several of the members of this band attended the same University as me.

"When you were young and on your own how did it feel to be alone?"

We have a rough ride with Middle Small sometimes and today has been no exception. On Friday he overindulged in high fibre foods and paid the digestive consequences today. Even as a tiny baby, no, hang on, he has never been a tiny baby, he looked 3 months old a few minutes after being born and had hands like a puppy's paws, he has suffered with his digestion but I sort of made this unwritten rule for myself that I wouldn't blog about body fluids because it is A) boring, B) it might put you off your lunch and C) it is, in some way I guess, private.

Of course we didn't realise this in advance until the third time today that he didn't make it to the toilet in time and the resultant clear up job was pretty epic. No one has a sense of humour when they are cleaning up poo do they?

It wouldn't have been so dreadful had he not tried to be ever so helpful and clear it up himself.

He told me today that there was a hurt in his tummy and a hurt in his heart. I realise that the Middle Child theory is out of vogue at the moment but, nevertheless, he does occupy a hard place between a very bright elder sister, who mostly sleeps in her own room at night, and a very cute younger brother, who hardly detaches from Mummy all night. Thanks to some accurate homeopathic treatment he has overcome the burning jealously that overcame him a few months ago but still some things unsettle him.

After the third clean up we put him in the bath and I washed his hair for him, blog worthy only in that it is a pretty rare (bi-monthly?) occurrence. His hair is amazing. He has more follicles in one square centimetre than covers most of my thinning scalp!

We moved his knights today. It is not ideal but a compromise has to be reached, he does not want his baby brother to ruin his battle set ups which means that they can not be at the heart of our home. Those of you that have been reading my blog since the beginning will know that until February of this year Middle Small did not have any violent toys at all and we carefully monitored his screen viewing. Now he has a much freer reign but his sword is still a garden only toy. I am sure in the hands of other boys his age they would not cause so much damage. I remain unconvinced that this is the perfect solution but our old strategy was not working. It is broke, and we are trying to fix it. We have tried fighting fire with fire, endless hours have been spent reading up looking for ideas, at the moment I would say "damage limitation" is my approach. When I see it going wrong I try and make it go right again as soon as.

The fact is, of course, that he "should" be going to school in September. The boy who has a two hour afternoon siesta on 4 of the 7 days each week, the boy who grazes from 9am til 11am most mornings, the boy who needs to be reminded to go to the toilet. In the early days I was never so convinced that E would want to be home educated but now, as that time approaches, I simply can not comprehend how he could go to school. It seems fairly obvious to me, from reading and speaking to people who have withdrawn their sons from the school system, that were the file of school unable to sand off the rough edges he would be a prime candidate for the path that leads to Ritalin.

I comfort myself constantly with the knowledge that, even if I find it tough sometimes now, it could be a whole lot worse were we contemplating school in 3 months time!

He is making progress, he has a friend that he really likes and looks forward to seeing, I left him at another friends house this week for 3 hours, our teenage helper remarked this week at how much he has improved in the last few months.

He still struggles with his own strength and finding a channel for his frustration that isn't anger. Of course I blame myself in many ways and have read enough to know that his abrupt weaning from the breast at 22 months will have damaged his brain and attachment mechanisms. Well, that and the numerous times he has landed on his head following over zealous cycling.

We read some more Peter and Jane today, everything I read about unschooling is through his eyes at the moment, whilst I feel he may well learn to read autonomously at some stage he knows that his big sister was reading at the age he is now and he wants to do that to. When I read about placing no limits on food I see how he struggles to ride the sugar rollercoaster and wonder which is the right way to go.

Of one thing there is no doubt and that is that in having Etienne as my son I am a better person than would otherwise have been so. He has pushed me to limits I never knew I had before and back again. He has, accidentally, broken my little toe and is, in combination with a piece of brio track, the reason I have a large gap between my front teeth His is a love so powerful that could break your heart.