Tuesday 24 November 2009

Independent Council of Twenty-something Childless Blokes



For some reason I always seem to get on better with childless people. I don't know why, maybe they are just more interesting. I also always seem to get on better with men then women. I think this is because male friends don't require the same level of commitment as females. You can never text or phone or email a male friend and he's really not that bothered; My few surviving female friends tend to be either very persistent or their children are related to my child. Anyway, I seem to have found myself in the twenty-something childless male clique at work. For reasons that now appear quite clear. As these are the only people I really chat to I often find myself discussing 'parenting' issues with them, much to their amusement. Today it was the issue of listening to the ipod while cycling. My son insists that I am the only parent who has reservations about this. The twenty-something childless blokes voted 2 to 1 that yes, I was being over protected (with the disclaimer that it also depends what music he's listening to, and not to cycle under the influence of alcohol!). So, again my son has been saved by the ICTCB, which have also helped him obtain an unsuitable computer game, have his thumb seen by the doctor and recently helped direct his future career aspirations. I wonder just how different things would be for him if I were part of a middle-aged mummy clique....

Saturday 21 November 2009

Common things

A few months ago I had a bit of a panic that as my son grew older I could find less shared interests between us. I mean, what do 13 year old boys really have in common with their mums?
One issue is that I've never really had any hobbies, even as a child. I recently thought about learning to make felt with a friend because it sounded like a nice middle class thing that I ought to be doing but then when they started talking about cross-stitch I remembered that this really wasn't me. See, I pretend, like a martyr, that I don't want to waste time or money on my own hobby but the truth is that I'm just not that interested in much, except getting drunk and dancing. And I can't really share that with my son yet (although admittedly it would have been a struggle to share felt making with him too).
To ensure my son doesn't turn out like me I've encouraged him to learn every instrument, play every sport and collect anything he can. But these are his things, not mine. He wont even play sport with me anymore because as he's got better I seem to have got worse, which makes for pretty uneven matches! (Gone are the simple days when he struggled to catch a ball....Hmmph). Anyway, in the end I splashed out on tickets to see Michael McIntyre (which turned out to be even more expensive after the parking ticket). I figured we did both like laughing. A lot. It was well worth it. Apart from having to pretend that I didn't understand the rude bits it was a successful trip enjoyed by both. Hooray for (almost) family friendly comedians....

Monday 16 November 2009

Seeing clearly


I know I look like a dork but its strangly refreshing to actually be able to see things like road signs and the TV. I can't believe I spent the last year just thinking that these things were meant to be blurred. My son may think they are just a prop for his Clarke Kent/Superman sketch (which is v. funny)but I'm loving my new found clearer vision.


The weekend was spent seeing the (half) siblings. 4 little and 1 big. I don't know why there's such a fuss about so called broken families. What could be better than adoring little siblings who worship you, a big sister to annoy (but also secretly adore), then home to being the centre of attention again. At least that's how my son see's it!

Tuesday 10 November 2009

Mornings


OK so far this term we have been getting on really well in the mornings. Its been lovely in fact. However, this morning things didn't quite go so smoothly....

This is me


I'm not biased but my son is brilliant at everything. Truely. Absolutely everything except drawing people. He hates it and he hates that he can't do it. His Art homework for this week was to draw someone. As it was due for Monday he started it at 8pm on Sunday evening after a particularly busy weekend. I stood and posed patiently while he got more and more frustrated. The end result was, in his eyes, terrible. He was upset that he'd made my thighs look fat and my top half look square. He said it looked nothing like me. To me this picture was perfect. I do have fat thighs and not much of a waist. I'm flattered that he thinks otherwise but really this picture is fairly accurate. If anything it makes me look more in proportion than I actually am.
So this is me; fat thighs and square top half, yet much prettier in the eyes of my son....