Tag Archives: Teenagers

Things I have done this week to put off doing my tax return…..plus other snippets

31 Saturday Jan 2015

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Good eve-noon, blog (that’s the time between afternoon and evening. I just made it up),

So the Inland Revenue or Her Majesty’s Revenue C….. erm..not sure what the C stands for. I’d suggest that you all (yes, that’s all 3 of my followers) message me with an answer but that could get me kicked off WordPress.  Anyway, so the HMRC had a deadline today: fill in your self assessment tax return or ELSE.

I’ve known about this since October (and not to mention all the years that I’ve known that I’ve had to do it in a timely fashion). However…….I prefer until I get to the insomniac state of fear and worry before I do anything about it.  This usually involves most of January……and every, damn January for years and years.

Things that I’ve done to put off actually doing what I should be doing:

-re-creating my Flickr account and actively posting. In fact, I’ve so fully submerged myself into this act of procrastination that I’m about to order a tripod and make a dark room.

-Having an illness. No, I’m not some sort of maniacal hypochondriac despite living in  France for the past five year and yes, this is a genuine illness but with a twist. The twist is that with every virus I acquire (and there be plenty) I lose my balance (a hangover from my fandango down the stone stairs last April). Feeling drunk without the fun? That covers it.

-Going through the sock basket. ……………. which lasted about 4 minutes and 29 seconds and then I threw all the 68 or so odd socks, in the bin. Felt guilty in case my husband found out so had to take the bin down to the village bins which required me hanging off walls to keep me upright.

-Feeling the need to learn a collection of Irish songs on the tin whistle and posting them to Youtube where I shall be mortified (and all viewers will be petrified) now that I’m out of my HAVENT DONE MY TAX mania.

Other events from this week:

Last Saturday the Face told me that he got a really bad grade in Science. As I am a reasonable type of mother (lacking, others might suggest), I asked him in which subject:

‘Reproduction’

Which, luckily dear followers, is MY area of expertise having had 5 kids.

‘So Face, what exactly didn’t you understand? As it is QUITE straightforward.’

‘none of it. I dunno. The teacher was going on about all these words and none of us knew what she was talking about. BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH.’

So I suggested that he revise the lesson and look up the words that he didn’t understand.

Then, I got the huffing

puffing

shrugging

‘you’re just an idiot’ look

Tutting

ATTITUDE

This MANNER of BAD attitude  makes me turn from nice, reasonable Mother to Feckin Lunatic Wildebeest.

‘Right then, Face. What we’ll do then, as you seem SOOO disinterested in learning it the right way is watch a lesson together on YOUTUBE.’

I actually heard his heart drop from his chest and hit his feet and bounce back up again.

I actually felt the heat from his utter SHAME and embarrassment that I should suggest such a thing.

I heard the pin (of collective SHAME) drop as the other 2 also doing their homework around the table, picked up on the absolute horror of the situation even if they had no idea what it was about – they felt the sibling PANIC.

It didn’t help that the first video I found to watch on Youtube began with a very lifelike computerised image of a woman’s hello there.  But watch it we did.

Once it was finished, I found sitting where my full of life 15 year old son had been, a ball of Cringe.  He’s not been right since but my God, does he know the ins and outs of the human reproduction system.

Mondays

The alarm didn’t go off (because some fool of a mother had not set it) so we all woke up late. What an enjoyable start that is.

I managed to get Fatty and the Lips to school 1 minute before being locked out and Fatty said ‘I NEED a poo.’ and no amount of me ‘no you don’t’ would shut him up.

Into the school midget toilets we go. And he sits………..and he sits…………and he sits………’have you finished yet Fatty as I think they’re now calling you for lunch’ ……..and he sits………and then he says ‘Im finished’………and then he says ‘no, I’m not as there is more’………and then I hear parents coming to pick up their kids as it is the end the day and we are still in the cubicle and then he launches himself off and bends over. Great. We’re done. My bobble hat, scarf, jacket, coat and gloves have been effective in making me SWEAT and hard. Thank god that’s over and I can get some fresh air. And then I see…………….I see something that I don’t quite understand…..I see poo poo footprints all around the infant toilet floor.

How could this happen?

How could one slip out and be trodden in without me noticing?

I wiped it up.

It was EVERYWHERE.

But I couldn’t not bleach it. Little hands could be covered in FAtty poo germs and I’d never forgive myself so I had to say in my best fRench to a teacher that FAtty did a poo, it dropped onto the floor and he walked into it. Yep.  I HAD to do that. And it was a very bizarre moment.

Right – Fatty has just sneakily fallen asleep so I must dash and fill him up with coke to see him through to the official bedtime.  I shall leave you one of my procrastinating photos:

IMG_5466

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Cinderella Law ? God help the parents of teenagers.

31 Monday Mar 2014

Posted by in Parenting and family

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Hey Blog,

Guess what they’re up to now?

Image

Bringing in a law which makes it illegal to emotionally abuse a child. A law which will help to stop – prevent even, emotional neglect by the parent/carer of that child or children.

In an ideal world, I’m all for this.

We should protect the weakest members of our species (although I would imagine that parents of determined toddlers or wreckless teenagers would cry ‘Weak???! Weak??! They’ve nearly broken us!!!!!’).

To visualise a child witnessing and encountering any kind of abuse leaves us, the adults, feeling angry at the perpetrator and earnest to bring about some form of protection for that child. This is the right thing to do.

However,

-how on earth, heaven or hell can this be legislated ?

-How can one person’s definition of emotional abuse, meet another’s?

-Will this law bring about criminal charges for ‘abuse’ which took part 10, 20, 30 etc years ago (as it currently happening with sexual misconduct accusations)?

-This law could be used to ill effect.

-This law could be in itself abused.

This law, if it comes about, is going to be used by every, single, self obsessed, hard done by, stroppy teenager to their own end.

Teachers of children age 11 up must be pulling out their hair, grinding their teeth, sharpening pencils to stick in their eyes, rocking in a corner saying ‘no, no, NOOOOOOOOOOOO!’ – perhaps. It is just a suggestion………but we know, don’t we? We know what our little darlings are going to try on us at home:

‘Mum, if you don’t give me this, that, the other and let me do this, that and the other, I am going to report you for emotional abuse’

‘Tell you what, oh child of mine, you’ll be reporting me for physical abuse too if you carry on with that line.’

I can also feel the Daily Mail gearing up (rubbing their hands with glee) about this topic. They must already be on the search for every, single chippy 20/30/40 year old who feels that they can whinge to an audience about the fact that their parents ‘didn’t show them any love’ – if I sound harsh, it’s because this law, despite it’s great potential to help a genuine case of neglect, is going to bring all manner of emotionally deficient mud life to the surface: all manner of self seeking types who probably have had a very good upbringing but are starved of attention…..or rather, starving for attention. This law scares me a little.

Now, I shall admit that I am not the most affectionate parent to the children of mine who are taller than me! However, what they lack in receipt of physical affection from me, I hope I make up in the manner that I speak to them (when I’m not shouting); the jokes that we can share; the banter – (the washing of clothes, the cooking of food, the encouragement when they do a good thing, the pulling them up on all the dumb things they do…….because..it WILL make their future selves, better)? Is the fact that the Prodigal’s self medicating as a result of emotional abuse?

Well, I can’t answer that one, can I? Some people would claim that it is.

What constitutes good parenting? Is what is good for one child, good for another (that’s the line I take in this house with regards to rules – although not necessarily in how I deal with the rule breakers)?

What I hope with this possible Law is that when evidence is being gathered, a LOT of common sense is used; a lot of different people are involved in giving their witness statements – a full and well rounded case is presented before the court – closed or otherwise.

I hope also that if this law is passed that it lifts up out of abuse, genuine cases of neglect and puts them in a far happier and emotionally secure environment.

As ever, I shall post this unedited. Again, please edit for me. I shall listen (barely).

p.s. Mother, can you imagine if they had brought in this law when your child number 2 was a teenager? I think his teachers would have resigned and been taken away by the white coated ones. /;

Chasing my tail

06 Thursday Feb 2014

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Dear Blog,

This is what I do, every, single day:

20140206-171317.jpg

Now, the week that has been, involved :….- or should it be – Things we now know that we didnt (want to) know last week?

-little sleep. Such little sleep that my logical (?) brain decided that ‘surely we are under attack from a bad spell/demons/ evil spirits?’ Yep – it has got to that level. I know this is clearly madness (but entre nous, I asked Archangel Michael to come and clear ‘them’ out of the house anyway).

-Archangel Michael, in cleansing the house of evil, sleep eating monsters, somehow managed to sieve the kids out the mixture and they, the kids, remain (cleansed?)….. And remain the main cause of the lack of sleep.

-the Prodigal has upped his level of anti-parent, unacceptable behaviour and is literally reaching for the skies (not quite reaching Angel Michael).
We are now 3/4 of a very large, very good armagnac bottle less than we were a week ago. To think that he mixed this with apple juice must have made all previous dwellers of this ancient house, slap bang in the centre of armagnac world, groan (and rise up to keep me awake).
This bottle had been bought as a Christmas present for my father in law…. I hope that he isn’t too thirsty.

-snip snap? Not for the Prodigal. A hairdresser without scissors, is like a …. Very useless person. Not just one pair of fabulously expensive scissors but two!
‘And do you know what? A funny thing happened and you wont believe it’
‘You’re right there, Prodigal.’
‘The salon got broken into the ONE time I left my stuff there.’
‘Well, what do you know…? We don’t believe it.’

-the Prodigal (yep, still on this theme) has gone to England for the weekend. He has gone for the sole purpose of accompanying, erm..escorting his girlfriend to her prom (the Prom, which to her, is the single most important event to ever happen…. until she goes with my son and then there’ll be numerous spin off BIG events). The Possibilities OF Shit Hitting The Fan and spreading infinitely far are eeendleeeessss.
I don’t (currently) have an English Brief but I think I might start researching:
‘Ok, Google, Uk. Search for: ‘most successful defence lawyer of absolutely, for sure, definite to lose, cases.’

Meanwhile:
The Face went skiing for the day.
I got up at 6.30 to get him to school.
As I had another 160km to drive that day (demons children to various things), I stopped the car, 300m away from the school door for a quick turnaround:
‘What? Have you forgotten where my school is?’
As I shoved him out of the car and wheel span off – that moment? Well, it was the best part of the day.

Ok, as we (me and THEM are in the unheated Big Room, in February), Im signing over and out and shall post this unedited (again) and wonder.

Farewell.