Swings, roundabouts, etc
It's the most wonderful time of the year.
Not christmas, you understand. No. Christmas is stress, and buying turkeys, and finding the time to put the christmas tree up, and explaining to everyone you know that, actually, you think christmas cards are a total waste of time and money (but thanks for theirs, obviously). It's people piling into Tesco at 5am to buy sprouts and Matchmakers and pork pies and other things that they will throw away in the third week of January, all the while vowing that next year they'll rein it in a bit.
Ahem.
Anyway. This is the time of year when the Ex finishes his annual Autumn work pattern, which has him working a million hours a week and having no time to see Small Person, which in turn means that he has her on a Saturday night and I therefore see her for a massive two hours on a Sunday night which are all taken up with dinner and bath and nagging and where on earth is your PE Kit for the seventh week running??! But no. No more. We are back to normal. All is good in Surly's world. I get my Small Person back at 5pm on a Saturday evening, which means TV dinner and X-Factor and snuggly Sunday morning and fun things. Admittedly, I am glossing over things like sorting out where she is over christmas, and the fact that I haven't yet rung her new school to sort out meeting her teachers etc, but surface-wise, it's all good.
And the best thing of all is that I'm not the only one who feels that way. Regular readers of this pointless endeavour* will be familiar with my endless agonising over being a rubbish mother, what with the fractured upbringing and the self-esteem issues and the just plain being rubbish and all. It seems, however, that occasionally I get it right.
The following is taken from a diary entry Small Person made on the [execrable] "Tiara Club" website, which seems to be aimed at six-year-olds whose parents won't buy them [slutty] Bratz dolls. I have pasted it totally unedited. Please bear in mind (even as you are marvelling at my enviable parenting skills) that the grammar, spelling and punctuation belong to a person who won't be seven until almost June.
Anyway. Over to Small Person:
I'm so happy.I went swimming with my mum. Plus I got swimming lessons with mum as well.I'snt that great?Plus when I finished my swimming lessons I got to have a ice~cream.Do you wish you had a day like that?But I haven't finished what I'm saying yet. After that we went to Tesco and we got advent calendars, a packet of coloa bottles , and a packet of another type of, sweets but I don't know, what their called, and a comic for me. When we got home I had my dinner it was pasta bolonese and I liked it so much that when I finished it I couldn't find the words to thank mum because it was so nice. After thatI went of to play and thats what I have done today.
I don't think I can begin to describe how this little glimpse into my daughter's head made me feel. So, instead, I'll leave you with the heartwarming tale of how she repaid me for this magical day.
She gave me headlice. Sweet.
* Seriously. Why you not say anything any more? Time for Surly to hand the blogging baton to the next generation? Tell.
Not christmas, you understand. No. Christmas is stress, and buying turkeys, and finding the time to put the christmas tree up, and explaining to everyone you know that, actually, you think christmas cards are a total waste of time and money (but thanks for theirs, obviously). It's people piling into Tesco at 5am to buy sprouts and Matchmakers and pork pies and other things that they will throw away in the third week of January, all the while vowing that next year they'll rein it in a bit.
Ahem.
Anyway. This is the time of year when the Ex finishes his annual Autumn work pattern, which has him working a million hours a week and having no time to see Small Person, which in turn means that he has her on a Saturday night and I therefore see her for a massive two hours on a Sunday night which are all taken up with dinner and bath and nagging and where on earth is your PE Kit for the seventh week running??! But no. No more. We are back to normal. All is good in Surly's world. I get my Small Person back at 5pm on a Saturday evening, which means TV dinner and X-Factor and snuggly Sunday morning and fun things. Admittedly, I am glossing over things like sorting out where she is over christmas, and the fact that I haven't yet rung her new school to sort out meeting her teachers etc, but surface-wise, it's all good.
And the best thing of all is that I'm not the only one who feels that way. Regular readers of this pointless endeavour* will be familiar with my endless agonising over being a rubbish mother, what with the fractured upbringing and the self-esteem issues and the just plain being rubbish and all. It seems, however, that occasionally I get it right.
The following is taken from a diary entry Small Person made on the [execrable] "Tiara Club" website, which seems to be aimed at six-year-olds whose parents won't buy them [slutty] Bratz dolls. I have pasted it totally unedited. Please bear in mind (even as you are marvelling at my enviable parenting skills) that the grammar, spelling and punctuation belong to a person who won't be seven until almost June.
Anyway. Over to Small Person:
I'm so happy.I went swimming with my mum. Plus I got swimming lessons with mum as well.I'snt that great?Plus when I finished my swimming lessons I got to have a ice~cream.Do you wish you had a day like that?But I haven't finished what I'm saying yet. After that we went to Tesco and we got advent calendars, a packet of coloa bottles , and a packet of another type of, sweets but I don't know, what their called, and a comic for me. When we got home I had my dinner it was pasta bolonese and I liked it so much that when I finished it I couldn't find the words to thank mum because it was so nice. After thatI went of to play and thats what I have done today.
I don't think I can begin to describe how this little glimpse into my daughter's head made me feel. So, instead, I'll leave you with the heartwarming tale of how she repaid me for this magical day.
She gave me headlice. Sweet.
* Seriously. Why you not say anything any more? Time for Surly to hand the blogging baton to the next generation? Tell.
posted by surly girl at 7:16 pm
25 Comments:
Is she Happy Girl then?
You are a good Mum, see.
I'm off to get the Food Police.
shedding a little tear here...
reading but not commenting is the new reading and commenting (at least that's what i'm telling myself)
I'm going to read this before I next shout at my kids(obviously I won't but thinking that I might makes me feel better). What a brilliant child, and, may I say, a pretty fab mum too.
food police??
the reason she was so grateful was it's been 6 and a half years and only now does she get sweets...
not that i'm over-sensitive or anything...
honest.
Do you really want me to comment?
Small Person's coolness is a direct response to Surly Girl's parenting skills despite her lack of belief in herself. I bear witness to this every single day.
I'm still here! Just, uh, not writing much at the moment, comments or blog or work or anything. You must absolutely not stop writing, or we'll be very very cross. I'm starting again soon.
I'm going to put up a thing my small person did for me when I've got time. Ace, aren't they?
And there's me, as a non-parent, thinking that all children are brats (Bratz) who, by the time they're five are only after computer games, DVD's and the latest phone when in fact due to obvious excellent parenting, Small Person is delighted with swimming, spag bog and a comic. Nice one Surly.
There is a set game plan in our house to keep Small Person away from too much TV, computer games, sweets and other fads for as long as possible.
I know eventually we will have to cave in on some of them but for as long as we can we want her to enjoy the simple pleasures of being a child....reading, swimming, healthy food and the company of a loving family.
That may sound a bit trite but it seems to be working well as these are all values Surly Girl holds dear and I totally support in my role as step father (there, I've said it !).
Doesn't sound trite at all.
I'm always thinking I'm a bad mum. In fact I completely lost it with my son last night over a lost mobile phone back, rubbish and food items in his bed, general rubbish thrown on floor, MY friends DVDs out of their cases and scattered in various parts of his room. It was an accumulation on a bad day and I blew my top. And felt like shit afterwards when he said to me 'Don't buy me anything for Xmas cos I don't deserve it'.
You just have to do the best job you can and hope for the best.
The countdown to Xmas :-
Tic
Tic
Tic
Tic
Tic
Tic
Tic
Tic
Tic
Tic
Tic
Tic
Tic
I only discovered your blog relatively recently, and I keep coming back for more! So, I would say, no, grip the baton tighter and keep running.
Oh, and Small Person's writing made me smile as much as yours.
Commiserations on the headlice though - brings back memories of torturous hours of combing them out of really thick, long hair. If you have access to a micrscope it can be educational though!
Ah, so not all kids are horrendous little monsters after all. Fascinating.
I promise I won't eat Small Person if she should accidently find herself in the next county up. Anyway, she's got lice...
Oh, doesn't Victoria Wood do an advert about headlice potion, or something?
yeah, but it's all rubbish really.
*scratches*
Funny funny sweet - liked to read it - just found your blog I'll be back!
thank you and welcome, mutley...
*scratches*
I've just got rid of an eight-week infestation so I feel your itch. Electric lice combs are fun, wet combing is laborious but does leave hair beautifully glossy and chemicals are, well, chemicals. I found making my daughter argue with the louse-y friend cleared them once and for all.
(All good mums think they're shit, btw. And most good bloggers.)
No, it's not time for you to hand over the blogging baton, you just need to understand that 90% of people don't comment because they love what you've written, or because they have something important to say, they comment because you've commented on their blog and they feel obliged to return the compliment. It's the way of the blogging world. Anyone who thinks they're truly popular should try refraining from making any comments themself. The comments on their own blog will usually dry up within a few days.
I would suggest that the number of comments you usually get has more to do with the long list of links on the right than with the quality of the blogging, so don't take it personally if the number drops, you just need to make time to visit all your links and post a few comments. People will soon be back, regardless of what you write. Hope that helps. x
Oooh...nits...been there. Absolute nightmare. SYMPAHTIES!
Loved Small Person's Tiara Club message. What a darlin!
SYMPATHIES, as well!
Ah bless her, bless her, bless her. That is absolutely lovely and brought a tear to my eye. Her grammar and composition is way above what I would expect for her age. Yay Small Person!! Give her a hug from me and Hurrah! 'Step-Dad' (is it sounding comfortable yet?)
what a FANTASTIC little girl!
(you'll miss the headlice once they've gone - dandruff with legs can be regarded as a pet - more fun than tamagotchi, far cheaper than a cat)
That is beyond cute.
Post a Comment
<< Home