What's Up With Chickie?

Motherhood is a common phenomenon with lots of women producing at least one child at some point. A portion of these women will go on to appoint themselves expert child psychologists. Even some with no parenting experience will find something helpful to add.

New mummies to the market are particularly vulnerable. Thrust into a chaotic Sudacrem scented haze, they’re confused and highly absorbent. Even 2½ years into my house arrest, I remain bewildered. The passing of time serving only to dish up fresh challenges at precisely the moment I think I’ve got it sorted.

Last week’s internet searches focused on summer getaways, swimwear suggestions for the pear-shaped and seasonal accessories. My most pressing concern, whether the tummy control panel in the new knickers I’d just ordered, could really pass me off as having stomach muscles.

This week, hair pulling, separation anxiety and sleep apnea were gingerly typed into the computer by someone who promised her G.P. and family that she’d never Google symptoms ever again.

Chickie, sensing mummy’s attention wandering, began the transfer of mud from pot plant to carpet. Finally turning from the laptop to find Chickie standing atop his new indoor flower bed, I felt too sorry for him to be angry. According to on-line experts, I’d been right to be worried.

I phoned my sister. “It’s just a phase”. I felt better.
I phoned my mother. “You do cuddle him a lot and I’m sure he could still use a nap”
I spoke to friends. “Perhaps he’s on the cusp of a developmental leap? Or his blood sugar levels have dropped?”

More followed. “Has something happened?”
“Nope. Everything’s exactly the same”.
“He could be under-stimulated, do you play with him enough?”
“Does he have enough independent play without you?”
“He’s over-tired”
“Try a swimming cap?”
“Perhaps he went to a big bed too soon?
“Too much chocolate?”
“Dehydration?”
“Demonic possession?”

Then came the article. ‘Successful Parenting’. Reading about mothers neatly categorised into Tuned-in, Sorted and Laid-Back– I hated them all. No mention that laid-back mummy, whilst chilled and trusting of her child’s judgment, sits back mutely whilst her free range poppet destroys property, freely attacks others and uses smaller children as trampolines.

I devised my own category. “Uptight Mummy”. I had 2,986 potential triggers to deliberate before I could become “Tuned In Mummy” and instinctively understand all the reasons behind my child’s behaviour.

Whilst considering the merits of Trigger No. 1823, ‘Overuse of the naughty step’, I made a decision, all by myself.

If I’d considered the obvious and still didn’t know why my child had suddenly decided to vacpac himself to my leg, then no one else was likely to know either. It was time to have confidence in my own judgment. I was ‘Uptight Mummy’ after all. Besides, I really liked my sister’s suggestion. Trigger No. 1. “It’s probably just a phase”.