Dinosaurs have taken over my life. It crept in slowly. The odd Tyrannosaurus handed down by relatives, the surreptitious glances in toy aisles. It was fun to begin with – some Land Before Time, a bit of Dinosaur Train – nobody was getting hurt right? Somewhere along the way it blew into a full scale addiction. I didn’t know how to make it stop.
Pretty soon people would ask my son his name in supermarkets and he would roar “T-REX!!” before baring his two-pronged claws. We couldn’t leave the house without the above dinosaur or the withdrawal symptoms would induce panic, screaming and tears.
My husband and I tried an intervention. Wouldn’t he like to play with cars for a change? “Ok. Triceratops stomp on cars, RAAAAWWW!” No. Dinosaurs are friendly. Look mummy dinosaur is eating leaves! “I’m going to eat mummy up, RAAAWW!”.
It was starting to put financial strain on the family so we stopped buying them. He would find other methods of smuggling the goods into the house via “Nanna”.
I found myself playing with the baby and instead of singing her lullabies I would chant “Everybody ready? We’re gonna riiiiiide the Dinosaur train!” It was infiltrating every facet of my life. I couldn’t remember where my purse was but I could give you an in-depth description on the difference between Pentaceratops and Triceratops and whether Velicoraptor had feathers.
We had a break-through when he discovered Octonauts but it wasn’t long before he relapsed. The dinosaurs were back in the bath, back in the car and back underneath my bare feet when I wasn’t looking.
We now wonder whether he has a chemical imbalance predisposing him to addictions such as these. We have decided to take the client-focused approach which entails “unconditional positive regard”, “accurate empathy” and “genuineness”. This basically means we have decided to completely embrace the dinosaur habit. When our son roars loudly we roar alongside him, holding his hand tightly until he one day decides to let go.