Exactly who is the child around here?

There is a child belly-aching upstairs. The mother doesn't know what to do with him. He's beyond the pale. He's just so badly behaved. He's not what she expected. She's just going to wait for him to cry himself to sleep. It's all about her now. "There's nothing i can do with that little so-and-so. I can't make him shut up. What did i do to deserve this? I try so hard. But he just won't behave. He's beyond my control. He's like a little devil." Perhaps if she went upstairs and talked to him with love. Gave him some attention, was firm and clear. Explain, be patient. But now they are both in the same space. She's lost her love. She's not prepared to stay in charge any more. She's conceded the battle again, and he's left him to his own devices. She won't reach out. She pours another gin, and consoles herself she's a good mother. No mother can take this. And again it will carry on in the same way next time.

Upstairs, the sense of abandonment grows, being wronged. Mummy just shouts at me. To her, I'm a little shit. She doesn't care about me. When she says she cares, she doesn't come and ask me what's wrong. She just laments (with her bottom lip sticking out) to her friends about how much she's worried about me. As if there's something wrong with me. I hate it when she talks about me as if i don't exist.Why should I do what she says. I need her to love me, to be in control, to keep me safe. But instead she leaves me alone. I'm scared actually. All this chaos sends me into a panic. And then she threatens me into submission.

But there is one inescapable reality. She is the foundation of his world. If she is not in charge, benevolent, if she breaks down, it all breaks down. Giving in to him is not an option. She has to win the battle, not for her sake - for his.

When will she recall the love and concern she has for him. Try to lead him, listen to him, show him what is okay, and what is not so okay, but all the time with love and his interest at heart. That would be so much better than calling him a brat; insinuating that he's not of her. Sense what he needs. Realise anew that the wailing and hot fury of every would-be tyrant is a cry for help. She must feel the pain of his growing, share it, and keep him fast to the task all the same.