Posts

Image
  The Summer holidays have arrived a short getaway Glamping trip has been booked and we are about to relax, unwind, and enjoy our break. Is it just my family that can’t even leave the drive before the holiday is ruined, threats are being flung around and one or more people are crying? All over a luggage bag that couldn’t be crammed into the boot and all it needed was to be re-adjusted and turned on its side. Roll on the return to school.

The Hygiene Talk

Image
  Asking my husband to have “the talk” with my eldest son about personal hygiene, regular everyday showering, and the use of a flannel, soap and water. The armpit check to ensure you’re smelling fresh before exiting the shower, if not hit the soap and water again. Then the application of deodorant, and lotion to moisturise your skin (we are a black family there is no excuse for ashy knees, elbows, and hands Coca Butter is our friend). It’s a sensitive subject I suggested to my husband to tackle this matter diplomatically we don’t want to knock his self-esteem. This is how the conversation went. “Son, your mum said you stink, get washed” Job done.

Rucksacks out, Handbags in.

Image
  It's been three weeks of the new school term and everyone is settling into their new routines. A few things are different this term as I have another pre-teen starting high school, rucksacks are out handbags are in, apparently all the girls in year 7 have handbags. The PROBLEM with handbags is that they can’t fit things in as well as a rucksack, and this point was proven when she now realises a separate bag is needed for her PE kit, this in itself isn’t an issue if A: she remembered to bring her PE kit bag and B: the bag of choice could fit all her PE kit in. This dilemma has led to having to borrow trainers when kit was forgotten (she couldn’t squeeze them into the drawstring bag) and then leaving her school shoes at school, three weeks into the new term! three weeks! To top it off despite her protests that she has looked everywhere for the lost shoes, she can't find them. To clarify her definition of looking for things is glancing into a room from a distance and then sayi...

A place for everything, and everything has a place.

Image
  I s it too much to ask to come home from work and expect your living room to look the same as how you left it in the morning, and do the children plus husband have to leave a trail of things from the front door traipsing all over the house? “A place for everything and everything in its place” Not in my home, coats, shoes, bags, and the odd foot of socks belong in piles, in corners of rooms, or in one big heap. Cups, bowls, and plates belong under in, and around beds, and keys, phones and general things of importance grow legs and walk.. To add insult to injury everyone gets upset with me when I’m then shouting about this (well not shouting but talking loudly) at everyone to put away their belongings that belong to them, not me, and put them where they belong. Then one child always the same child says flippantly while passing me and the piles of mess “If you want it tidy why don’t you do it yourself”

Who is the parent here?

Image
Your 11-year-old child is over an hour and a half late home from school, strolls in, and tries to explain that a fifteen-minute bike ride took over an hour. (left out the fact that they were gossiping with friends) no remorse just a flippant shoulder shrug, then gets upset with you! When you explain that’s not a good enough response or explanation, and then she says “whats with your attitude?” who is the parent here?  These new breed of children are something else.
Image
  Have I misunderstood the assignment here? When your child gets upset with you, huffing, puffing, and tutting because when she is going out, we bother her with questions like, where are you going? and who with? then to top it all off we give a reasonable time to come home. Really, my girl is lucky she is allowed back outside at all.
Image
  At what age is it inappropriate for a child to Wee in his welly? Then put it back on the shoe rack only to be discovered later when I’m tidying up and a boot full of wee-wee spills out…anyone? Just my six-year-old then.