The Last Post

This is the last post for this blog. My son turns 14 on Monday.

(Update: yes I did make the cake myself, yes he was mortally embarrassed, no he still hasn't forgiven me)

It's quite a scary prospect. I still feel about 14 myself most of the time. But I guess a lot has changed in the last 14 years. Sometimes I feel like me and my son have both kinda grown up together.  Other times I feel like I've just let him catch up with me. I'm glad that his big sister (AKA my daughter from another mother) has been a significant feature of the last 14 years though. Last night we went to see Eclipse together. I never understood the Twilight phenomena. I was aware of the 'feminist backlash.' But I liked Bella. I liked that she didn't have to do much to be a heroine. As a teen I would have much preferred her to identify with than Buffy. We can't all be kick ass superheros. It takes far too much energy. I guess I'll always be a shit feminist though. My daughter from another mother seemed content just to drool over Jacob for the 2 hours anyway, which I could totally relate to! I guess I really should try and stop lusting over 18 year old boys soon-before it gets me into trouble!

Maybe I'll do another blog some time. Typically, I've got loads coming up; camping with the fam (including the 4 gorgeous lil siblings), another week at the sea, festivals with friends, and one with the bro. And my mum has organised another one of her famous street parties for tomorrow. I'm sure it wont all run smoothly. Maybe I'll miss doing stuff and thinking 'this will make a funny blog post'.

Since returning from Belgium my son's been quite sweet and chatty (or as much as I can expect a sarcastic, angst-ridden, nearly 14 year old boy to be!).  It sounds like he had a great time in Ypres. At the school meeting the teacher went on about the bugler playing the Last Post in the evening, how magical and inspiring it was.

"What was the Last Post like Darling?" I asked

"Boring" he replied.

Oh, I was kinda hoping for a fitting quote to end this with but I guess that will have to do....

NB If you start suffering withdrawal symptoms you can find me here, promoting respect for young mums 
Whoop-yeah

Three's a crowd

What with holidays and work we seem to have covered every combination at home the last few weeks; the boyf away, the son away, the boyf and son away, me away, me and the son away. The only combination we haven't tried is leaving the son home alone but I don't think we're quite ready for that one. There was only one night when the boyf and the son were both away. The house felt calm and clean and completely under my control. Maybe it was just the right time of the month or maybe it was because the sun was shining but I'm keen to try that combination again.

While I was away this weekend I received some interesting texts: My son still texted me to ask what he could have for dinner! The boyf texted me on the Sunday night simply saying:

"Can't wait for you to get back. This house needs 3 people. X'

Well, I guess it's nice to feel needed.....Even if it is just to make up the numbers!

Back to bed...

Ok. So even though it did appear that God was trying to sabotage my weekend in Barcelona I refused to let it bother me.  So my friend decides to break her foot a few days before I was due to arrive - no biggie. Wheel chairs are sexy right? So I get a call that my cash card has been stopped due to fraudulent activity - I have complete faith that a new one will arrive the same day I'm due to fly out. When that card appears and then disappears I totally don't even go mad at the boyf when he discovers it in the the outside bin hours later cos he accidently chucked it away despite insisting he hadn't touched it. When the guy I get stuck sitting next to on the plane turns out to be a sex pest who wont leave me alone I still giggle pathetically and think its kinda cute!

When my friend then falls over AFTER hopping up the steps from the metro station and screams out that she's broken her OTHER FOOT I simply laugh at her bad luck.

When I spend hours pushing her up a huge hill to some 'like really cool' bars and we find that the 3 steps at the top mean we have to turn around and go back down the hill I say hey, its fine, really, despite the fact my arms are about falling off and I've broken my favourite sandals.

 When Spain score and win the world cup while we're in the fussing elevator I appreciate that we still just about heard the celebrations even if we couldn't be part of it.

When the same the sex pest is again on the flight home I'm totally cool with spending the whole flight hiding from him and his brothers.

But when I get home late and have to be at work a few hours later and have shit loads to catch up on and the weather is crap and then I have to be up at 4.30am the next morning cos my son's on a school trip to Belguim and all he does in the morning is moan and whinge and I get home after thanklessly dropping him and a friend off at school at stupid o clock to find quite abusive messages from some ebay buying who is clearly mentaly unstable and I see my bed calling me and I think, you know what, who gives a fuss if I'm late for work today, well at that point I really didn't know if I'd ever be able to get up again....

An education

Despite my son not wanting the attention I manged to sneak myself, my mum, my brother and D in to watch him at the school summer show. I was so proud. He was faultless as usual. But most importantly I think he enjoyed himself too. He sat in the pit while he wasn't performing so I could see the top of his head throughout the show. Just before the end, two teenage girls came on stage and did a dance routine to Beyonce's Single Ladies. I'm not sure where they came from. I'm pretty sure my son still attends an all boys school and they haven't taken on any scout type equality bill that lets random girls in. That said, they were bloody brilliant. I fear I may have whooped even louder for them than I did for my own son. Other parent's frowned and tutted: "What are they doing here?' "This doesn't go with the rest of the show!" But as I saw my son and his friends staring up from their pit with, I'm sure, the perfect view I couldn't help but agree with one of the dads who simply replied 'I think its just a bit of a treat for the boys". Their faces said it all.....

Stubburn Genius

My son is lovely, really he is, but he can be very stubburn. I'm sure he must get this trait from his father. His developmental review age 3 in his Red Book clearly states "Unable to do any tasks - Uncooperative". That's my son - if he think someone else wants him to do it, he will just refuse... but that doesn't mean he can't do it. Far from it.

This week my son was asked to perform in the school's Summer Production, on the piano. He loves playing the piano. He plays every day. But someone else had asked him to do it. He also knew I wanted him to do it...

"I'm not doing it," he simply said.

Right. Time for action.

I rang the school, "Look, I really want him to but I'm not sure that I can persuade him."
His teacher totally understood. "Ok, we really want him to as well, I''ll have a word, I'll tell him he's already on the programme."
"Brilliant," I said
But the next morning he still wasn't sure. I rang the school again. I feel like a pushy mother. The receptionist must be sick of me. I'm already slightly concerned that I have a reputation for complaining if my son isn't in the top set - while it is true I have twice 'questioned' it, once it was my mistake because the classes were actually mixed ability (Why call it group 4 then??? What was I meant to think??) and once it was a fussing ADMIN ERROR!! (You moved my son down a set cos of an ADMIN ERROR-are you completely incompetent!!???). Anyway its nice to ring and speak to teacher who is on my side.
"Right - I've just told him we can't change the programme, I hope you don't mind - its not true but its just we really want him to play."
No totally - this is exactly what I want you to do.

So tomorrow my son is playing piano in the school Summer Production... I think he'll love it...or at least I really really really hope he will.....but all I can think of is that extremely clearly written 'UNCOOPERATIVE' in big letters across his Red Book....

Man-child

So, I've pretty much accepted that for the next few years I can kiss goodbye to family outings (except maybe in other cities where we wont be recognised) as I am officially the most embarrassing person to be around. Not that this should be taken personally though I'm told. "Noone wants to be seen with their Mum," my son keeps assuring me. My job has been reduced to on-call taxi driver as long as I don't talk too much or park too close to where I might be seen.

So in an effort to give my milk bottle legs at least an opportunity to breathe I have taken to adopting people who I can treat like my children on family type trips. On Saturday I took my 17 year old daughter from another mother to the Carnival. Most of time seemed to be spent either following or running away from 17 year old boys. It was hard to keep up. I was sure we were running away from the same ones we were following. Not wanting to get too involved, in the end I left her to it..... Today I took my brother out to a country park. The park wasn't as good as we thought it would be, 'I wish we'd gone to the castle now' he said as we arrived after the 45 minute drive. But the children's play area did look fantastic... so we dug sand, swung on the baby swings, skated, slid, hung from monkey bars and bounced away. As we were bouncing madly on the see saw type contraption we noticed a ginger haired boy glaring at us...

"How old are you?" he asked my brother.
"28" he replied.
He looked at us both....
"Don't you have anything better to do with your time?"
I was kinda speechless.
He looked at me with disgust...
"You should be ashamed of yourselves" he said...

This boy, it turned out, was 6 YEARS OLD!


There was nothing I could say to this strange oversized extremely well spoken man-child.

Suddenly bouncing up and down didn't quite feel the same. I muttured something about there not being an age limit (there wasn't-we had even checked) as we sheepishly left the children's play area and wandered down to Waterstones where I browsed through ADULT books (not that kind) and my brother looked at maps till we got chucked out. My legs remain as white as milk bottles.

Ok, now does anyone have a REAL child I can borrow for next time the suns out and I have some free time?

(NB Ignore the t.shirt! My brother quite likes wildlife and I just dont have the heart (or rather I wimped out) to explain to him (or my prudish mother who bought it) that 'I love beaver' has two, quite different, meanings!)

Coming Clean

So, I turn up at the door with a bottle of vodka in a co-op bag as instructed. I make my way to the garden which is full of people. I don't know anyone except the birthday girl. I thought it was a family party but it appears relatives weren't invited. Everyone is really friendly though and soon I'm chatting away, guys are flirting, one guy insists on draping his arms around my neck, a cute lesbian is accused of flirting with me too which she doesn't deny. They show off to me about things they've seen and done, typical stuff. They talk about relationships and UCAS forms and getting drunk. Then I ask one of them his age, and then he asks me....

Erm.... how old do u think? I say
19? 20? They all say....

And then I have to come clean, this has been nice and everything, but it cant last.

I eventually have to come clean that I am a 31 year old at a 17 year old's birthday party.

They don't believe me anyway. The lesbian looks confused. Then intrigued. "But you laughed at my jokes, you can't be thirty!" a floppy haired boy insists. When I decide to go home they beg me to stay, but I find the oldest person there (19) and leave him in charge. It seemed likely he'd do a better job than me.

Behave yourselves Kids I say as I leave....

Thank God I wasn't drinking. This could have ended quite differently....