With the baby stage over, the real fun begins

A DAD'S LIFE: MY ELDEST niece has the new teen thing going on. Ah, it’s so cute

A DAD'S LIFE:MY ELDEST niece has the new teen thing going on. Ah, it's so cute. The trauma, the peer pressure, the strange appeal of the opposite sex, clothes and hair, music, poetry, worries. It seems like yesterday. The missus would say it was yesterday, just because I flounced off to my bedroom when she told me to turn the music down in the kitchen. There I closed the blinds, wrote in my diary and facebooked my angst.

My two kids, if possible, would join themselves at both sets of hips to this cousin and her sister. They’re buddies, but the cousins have the extra cachet that goes with being just a little older and always knowing a little more. The four of them, ranging in age from five to 12, make an unlikely gang. They shouldn’t get on as well as they do, but so far they have defied the norm.

I put this down to the “new teen” being particularly patient. It can’t have been easy for her over the years always having to compromise in some way on what they do as a unit, yet she has never snapped at the others, never made them feel small or stupid the way some bigger kids can to their younger siblings. Instead, she has mucked in, been the voice of reason during disputes and the creative force that brings a more sophisticated element to the childish games she must sometimes feel too old to play. The others thank her for this and the youngest one hero worships at her altar.

With the “change” upon her I wonder will the dynamic adjust itself. It seems unlikely but adolescence is a crazy beast. Only weeks ago she was trying to convince me to write about her starring as Snow White in her school play (kids play the media game early, take note PR companies) and now it’s incessant text messaging and staring in soft horror at the mirror when her hair won’t lie the way it should.

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What’s happening is more than one child moving into a different stage, all four are in a state of flux. The youngest is no longer a baby, no longer content to stumble along behind everyone trailing a blanket, a teddy and a leaking beaker of juice. She has always been the mascot, the one the others painted or doused, the one they bounced like a vocal basketball on the trampoline. She did what she was told.

Okay, after prolonged poking and pulling she would scream and demand her rights, but she was always careful about the nuclear option, knowing that the middle two, lacking the eldest’s compassion, would simply ditch their living doll for overdemanding behaviour. She now has input to the “play planning” process. She is five and fights hard for input. She can negotiate, maybe not from a position of great strength, but she knows she can make the others’ lives difficult should she choose to. In short, she is no longer the runt, she wants equal billing.

The two in the middle, at eight and 10, are the dangerous pair. Unconsciously they seem to have realised that they are neither the conscience of the group (position occupied by the eldest) or at the bottom of the food chain. They have realised they are the true driving force, with little responsibility but a lot of power. They will push the boundaries in every situation. If a water fight starts outside, they are the ones who will rig up the hose to spray through the kitchen window just as dinner is being served. They will always travel a little further than they have been told they are allowed, sneak extra cake at a party and stay up all night at sleepovers, thinking we find it hilarious that they can’t shut up.

In recent times, they too have changed. While they are still kiddie kids, their awareness has increased massively, there is no room for blag with them anymore. They absorb the world and attempt to decipher its messages. Suddenly they’re watching us, their parents, to ensure we’re living properly. Advertising has a lot to answer for; due to TV campaigns I have been told to “Never, ever drink and drive”, and have the existence and status of my health insurance queried regularly.

I can no longer spell my way out of delicate situations and their Irish is way better than mine. They have an odd moral dictat, the rest of the world should live according to given rules while they should be allowed to do whatever they feel like. They are the enforcers without obligation.

Everybody’s getting big and a little wild. We have no more babies.