the power of dishwasher tablets, and the bogeyman

February 28, 2011 § 4 Comments

Most mornings I’m awake from about 5ish because I’ve got into the ridiculous habit of letting 1yo have a cup of milk in his cot to soothe him back to sleep, instead of doing that ‘controlled crying’ thing I’ve heard so much about. As well as getting up to deliver said cup of milk, I also have to tiptoe to the loo, run the gauntlet of hungry cats and avoid the creaking floorboard outside 3yo’s room. Inevitably by the time I’ve located my phone to check my alarm is set properly, and retrieved at least one sneaky cat from behind the curtain, I’m well and truly awake.

3yo wakes up between half six and seven and I hold my hands up, I’m tired, and most mornings I take him straight downstairs and the TV goes on. We both have a nice sleepy cuddle on the sofa, I have tea, he has milk, and on a work morning I need to be in the shower before 7. Which leads me to the TV dilemma. If I stick CBeebies on then while I’m in the shower at 7 Tweenies will come on and 3yo will not be happy (he has some taste.) No CBeebies can go on at half past for Charlie and Lola. Believe it or not about the most inoffesive programme on at 7 is the Mr Bean cartoon. Which inevitably means that I have to switch on the tv to an ad break while I get in the shower, and I’m becoming increasingly worried about the impact these messages are having on his little brain. He spends a worrying amount of time tucking at my laundry basket and talking about “tough stains.”

This morning he comes bounding in to the bathroom to tell me “you MUST get Calgon. It will mend up your washing machine.” I head back downstairs with him and the ads are still on – there’s an ad for Finish, Diamond Standard dishwasher tablets. 3yo asks if we can get a diamond. Or, he decides, even better, a crystal. “Yes,” I say. “Of course we can get a crystal.” He looks into the middle distance, eyes glazing over with wonder. “But mummy…” he half-whispers. “Imagine the effect on the UNIVERSE….”

As well as TV ads, there are clearly other strange things infiltrating my 3yo’s brain. Mother-in-law came to visit this week, and 3yo insisted that they get into his bed, draw the curtains, and pretend to sleep. “But what about the bogeyman?” Grandma says (good old Grandma.) “Oh it’s ok,” replies 3yo, quick as a wink. “I phoned the bogeyman the other day. He’s dead.”

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