It's official: I have a twelve-year-old.

Twelve years ago today, at the age of twenty, I miraculously birthed a 10lb 6oz baby boy after a wonderful 48 hour labour.

Then, while I blissfully bled out all over the floor, I held him in my shaky arms with the help of Geekster and a nurse.

Then, while they were giving me blood and trying to stop the bleeding in a calm and leisurely manner, my beautiful baby boy was taken away for observation because he wasn't breathing very well.

We just try to block out those particular details and remember that, on the surface, it was a joyous occasion. Minus the blood and potential death parts.

Today we bought his love with an XBox 360. It's the least we could do, having burdened him with the task of being eldest brother to two little horned ones who bite him with their fangs and claw at him when he doesn't give them a turn on the computer.

Buying children expensive gifts shows that you care. But, just in case, we also have some therapy money put away for later. You never know what major screw up will haunt a child for life. My big parenting blunder of the week, you ask? The one that is bound to keep a therapist's car payments secured for at least few months?

Gutsy threw a tantrum and I taped it.

Yep. Like, with my camera. You see, recently Gutsy has reclaimed his role as The Loud One Who Screams When He Doesn't Get His Way. On more than one occasion I have threatened to record one of his fits and show it to his classmates. In the past this would cause him to stop screaming and settle down in fear that I'd actually do it. This last time, however, my threat stopped working.

Who knew that empty threats eventually stop working? Nobody told me that. Is it in any of the parenting books collecting dust on my shelf? Would I know if I actually read them from time to time? That's, like, work. Who wants to do that?

Anyway, I had enough of the yelling and throwing himself on the floor this last time, so I picked up the camera and started filming.

I expected him to stop his juvenile behaviour and act like the mature six-year-old he is. I figured he would take a breath and say "Mother, what you are doing is upsetting me. Could you please stop? I promise never to tantrum again, which I believe to be a reasonable compromise. How about a hug?"

That's not exactly how it went.

Ever watch Taz on Looney Toons? He sort of looked and sounded like that. It was epic. It was damn impressive on so many levels. The running, the chasing me, the trying to knock the camera out of my hands (which he succeeded in doing). My idea to extinguish the flames of his anger set the entire Gutsy Forest on fire, and nothing would put it out.

After I abruptly stopped filming because the batteries fell out of the camera upon impact with the floor, Gutsy received a time out, some heavy consequences, and I chalked it up to a failed experiment,

...Or was it?

As it turns out, my parenting methods are not only revolutionary but highly effective. For, when I showed him the video of his tantrum, we both cracked up laughing and he said 'I look so funny, mom! Can we watch that again? You should put it up on YouTube!'

When Geekster and Intrepid came into the room he proudly showed them his crazed Hulk-like behaviour, grinning when they laughed out loud.

And he hasn't tantrumed since. Not once.

The Maven: 1 point for being awesome

Gutsy: 1 point for having a good sense of humour

Intrepid: 12 points for his age and 360 points for being spoiled by electronic devices

Happy birthday, Intrepid. I can't wait until Gutsy is 12. I can, however, wait a very long time for his teen years. My hair is grey enough, thanks.

Now I'm going to go play XBox.