His chocolate brown eyes look up at me; " Dee Dee says no mom! Tat is nuf!" his chubby finger points at me; "Dee Dee is serioussss" 

I had forgotten the 'the dictator years'; you may say 'toddler years';   I say dictator. ( tomāto ,tomäto ) 

The last time I had a dictator was 8 years previous to D's birth.

The dictator and I spend every day together; I have noticed since he turned two (a mere 3 weeks ago) his dictatorship has stepped up a notch. 

He wakes up at 7.15am every single morning; I am summoned. "Mam, mam, mammy..." . Ignoring him isn't much of an option as he tends to stretch over his baby gate and knock on my bedroom door. "Mammy, Mammy, I am awake mammy! Dee Dee is awake mammy...MAMMY, come get me"

I have never regretted giving the baby the 'box' room so much, as I do currently.

At 7.15am I have usually been asleep maybe five hours despite going to bed at 11pm-- thanks to bouts of insomnia and Ethan.

I get up...he gets louder by the second.

D would sleep through a chainsaw cutting through the leg of our bed--I am not joking.

We go down the stairs where I am informed that the director shall not be having his cereal for breakfast ; I am too tired to argue.

"Can I have some yoghurt pwease, some raisins pwease and a bitta milk mammy hum?"  I nod as I let out a big ywan. 

"You tired mammy, ah poor mammy.  I get you teddy?" According to the dictator a teddy fixes everything. 

"Go into your chair please buddy" I point at his high chair in the hopes I don't need to get cross so early in the morning. 

"Am sure mammy, and can I have some Liga too pwease" he asks as he climbs into his chair strapping himself in. "No cereal mammy pwease, no" 

He believes we live in a restaurant. 

He eats while the rest of the house wakes up and they all (eventually) get off to school. 

We are alone once more. 

"Get me my clothes mammy, Dee Dee has pooie for in the my nappy" 

I have not had a coffee yet. 

I turn on a cartoon (God bless Philo Farnsworth { a TV inventor}) Yes I googled that; I have mentioned my nightly sleep pattern, haven't I?! 

I make my coffee while hoping the radio drowns out the dictator who is now demanding I put on "Ninjaraho" at the top of his lungs; he has a fine pair of lungs, I am thankful for that...just not at 8.25am.

I come back in with my coffee in hand , I know I am going to be quizzed. 

"Where is mine mammy? I like coffee"

"No, no you don't . You're too little for coffee"

"I AM TWO"

"Yes you are two, but that is still too little for coffee buddy" I take a sip. I place my cup on the coffee table, I get his nappy, wipes cream and his clothes. I know he is watching me; he is always watching me.

Like an obedient servant I sit; for a simple reason really, I may actually have this coffee hot or at least lukewarm, I take another sip.

"No Ninjaraho mammy?" he asks with his head tilted to one side.

"No buddy, not this morning, just watch 'show me show me' " I turn up the volume hoping this will turn down his volume; it never works. I just end up with a loud TV and a louder dictator. 

"Do you lobe me mammy?" he smiles as a dimple appears in his cheek. 

He is a player; this dictator knows exactly how to play me. 

I smile, "Course I do D, mammy loves you so so much"  I get up to kiss him.

"I know mammy, I lobe you too" he laughs. Just as I bend down for a kiss he warns me "Only one mammy, only one kiss oktay?" his chubby finger once more pointing at me.

Our time goes fast; I don't really know why I say 'our' time because it is anything but 'our' time. It is the dictators time and his time only.

I don't know how I get a second cup of coffee but I do.(it's never drank hot or even lukewarm but it is a second cup of coffee) 

"Cuddle me mammy"- so I cuddle.

"Play cars with me mammy"- brumm brummm

"Laugh at me mammy"- I laugh as he tries to walk in my heels.

"Let's relac now mammy"- he will yawn at approximately 11.15am.

"Rub me neeck, me back mammy too"- he will shuffle his bum onto my lap, move my hands to where he wants them and then make his demands. He sure likes a good back, neck, belly and shoulder rub.  

I will gently oblige, I will suggest a nap or a visit to see 'Elmo'(which means bed, without saying bed, Elmo is his go to bedtime/naptime guy)

"Want to go see Elmo" I will whispered in his ear.

"In a few minutes mammy, rub my back mammy, my back!"
 
This goes on for 10 minutes or so until we can happily go up to visit Elmo.

I clean, cook, and do the laundry for the one and a half hour that the dictator may sleep, sometimes I can do this within an hour. 

As soon as he wakes; I am ordered to "leg me out mammy" and the dictatorship starts all over again this time though he is 'helping' me with the chores ...is there anything worse than your dictator helping you?

What would have taken me a half hour takes a good decent hour.

I spend most of the next few hours saying "ahh ahh, don't do that D" ,"Why don't you get your cars buddy", "That is dangerous, mammy said NO!" , "Leave it D, leave it", "I am serious now", "here sit there and eat this"... 

The dictator being helpful is pretty much the equivalent to being 'micromanaged' by a one foot nothing know-it-all.."Dee Dee do it!", "Leg me do it mammy" , "I show you mammy"...

When his older two brothers come home, he becomes less like a dictator and more like a dog; following me everywhere reminding his brothers that; "That's MY mammy" if either of them think about hugging or chatting to me. Needless to say he is ignored, but that doesn't stop him from roaring that I am indeed his mammy. 

When daddy comes home, his dictatorship transitions onto daddy, "Sit down daddy, Dee Dee going on your lap", "close your legs daddy, I can't get up on the lap", "Put your hand on my belly daddy", "Rub my belly daddy"," how was school daddy?", "you want coffee daddy?"....

Thankfully being a dictator takes it's toll and our little guy is in bed at 7.30pm. 

Kindly submitted by Ger Renton, who will be keeping us up to date on her crazy family life with Ethan & co.
Follow her on facebook at  "It's me Ethan"  and check out her amazing blog at geraldinerenton.com