You didn’t!

I’ve been neglectful. To date, I haven’t mentioned my second son, P. Which is odd, because he’s the one who causes me most stress (yeah, I know that must sound incredible after all I’ve said about the others!)

Being very nearly seven he has, at last, grown out of the temper tantrums and food fits he was prone to as a toddler, but unfortunately still has trouble interacting with other children.

There were a few years when I worried that his behaviour was all my fault, because originally I’d only wanted one child (HAHAHA!!!) and wasn’t sure how I felt when I discovered I was pregnant. On top of that I’d had this huge allergic reaction to penicillin before I found out and so instead of preparing for a new baby, spent most of the time fretting there’d be something wrong with him. Then he was breach (which is actually a lot less uncomfortable than engaged!), and I went into labour early and had to have an emergency c-section. Oh, and our electrician started a fire and took out our bedroom three days before he was born, so we had to move in with my mother (which really sent me off the stress scale!!).

But then something amazing happened. I got the perfect baby. He’s slept through night since the day he was born and was the quietest, most contented baby anyone could wish for.

In fact he used to be so quiet, I got all neurotic and took to standing over his cot and staring at his chest to check he was breathing. Good job too, or we might not have noticed how blue he sometimes went. It turned out he had a heart murmur, and although his body healed the problem, it gave us heaps of worry for a while.

It didn’t end there (and I doubt it ever shall with P) because at ten months we were told he had a hearing problem due to severe glue ear. Luckily again, this was not an insurmountable problem and thanks to speech therapy he’s caught up academically with his peers.

But there are other things affected when an infant can’t hear and their speech is delayed. The most noticeable being that they get fed-up and develop a temper instead. So as my sweet, adorable second son turned one, he also turned into the devil’s spawn and stayed that way until he reached five and was able to grasp the concept of compromise and bribery (that’s on his mother’s part!).

Unfortunately he began school when he turned four, and made enough enemies in that first year to carry him through all his schooling days (and I’m not just talking about his peers!), I lost count of the number of apologies I had to make for bruises, bald bits and bite marks.

So I worry about him. None of my others has the least trouble mixing, but P still has the philosophy that: if you’re not agreeing with me, then you must HATE me. And of course little boys don’t always agree…

We’ve tried all the typical things to try and help him along, but the truth is, he just doesn’t seem to like people, and very few take to him. It breaks my heart to watch him with other children getting teased or ignored, but he won’t listen when I tell him to be patient and not to get cross. All too often it ends in tears; it used to be theirs, now it’s his.


So it came as a surprise today when he got in the car and asked what day his party is going to be on. I frowned and asked why he suddenly wanted a party.

‘Because everybody likes me now!’ said P.

A million thoughts raced through my head, and filled-in the gaps so his words made sense.

R had been listening; ‘Oh my god, you didn’t tell your class you’re having a party?’ he sat back screeching with laughter as P nodded happily.

‘I told them we were going swimming, then pizza hut, then the cinema!’

‘You didn’t!’ I damn near screamed, and the desperation must have been apparent in my voice because P stopped smiling.



When I began writing I was cross with him, but now my heart is breaking with guilt because he might have the chance to make some things right, and I can help. So I’d better get a move on and arrange this party, I’ve only got eleven days!