I’ve laboured under the illusion this past six years that my first parenting book was the old classic What To Expect When You’re Expecting (though I really with they’d thought of calling it Feel The Fear and Do It Anyway)
It was purchased in the basement of Easons one morning on the way to work in 2009 and it should have come wrapped in a discreet brown paper bag. I was about five seconds pregnant, like 95% of its’ purchasers and terrified that anyone would know. I dipped in and out of that book all through pregnancy number one (and completely ignored it second time around).
This weekend I foraged in my sisters house for some new books for our burgeoning reader Dominic. As my eldest sibling and bearer of the oldest cousins she has the family library archives in her attic. I quickly discovered that I had owned what seems like a useful manual way for this stage in my life way earlier than I remembered…
By the way, the dreadful children are most definitely Irish – Pat, Maureen & Biddy Taggerty are the ruffians in question. I’ll let you know but I’m pretty sure they’ll all end up having jolly good fun and drinking lemonade with the prim and proper neighbours by the end. This bit of retro-revision for me aside, as well as some old Ladybird readers, I got him a few Secret Seven adventure books for us to get stuck into together. That lot have got to be better the last little fecker I returned to the library; Horrid Henry. As long as I can scan the page ahead fast enough to edit out any casual racism of these old editions we’ll be fine. Cheers for that Enid.
Since I was made redundant someone has to take up the slack round here. It’s looking like Ted really wants a desk job.
“I wanna get some work!
Push me in to the chair and get some work!”
It’s hard to put in a day at the office when your arms can’t reach the computer & feet don’t touch the floor. And just look at how messy that workspace is? Messy desk, messy mind. Someone should really clean that up…
I think by “work” he means the Sesame Street YouTube channel.
Weekends are family time right? Two harmonious days of idyllic behaviour like tramping through the woods, eating healthy picnics and enjoying each others company. Yeah, not so much.
We’d a lovely day yesterday at my niece’s communion. We admired the dress, we bounced on the bouncy castle, we asked inappropriate questions in a stage whisper during the mass. Okay, that last one was just Dominic.
A day of fun and treats left two little guys overtired and ready to whiiiinnnngee come Sunday. And boy, did they ever…
Has your child ever asked you loudly in public why that man has such a big belly or why that lady has a beard? Yes? Well then you will understand how I felt when my child brought this home from school the other day.
I arrived home from a day in work and an evening in college and decided to water the few vegetables I planted this spring. Like my children, they seem to have done fine without me to constantly tend them; they have sprung up and are doing mighty well for themselves. Am left feeling like a green thumbed overachiever after a day like that.
It didn’t start off so well though. I went to do a days freelance work and was left puzzled by an encounter with a senior member of staff. It was an off the cuff conversation, but it brought home to me how little some people value certain things. The person has form; in the past I’ve found them to have a vaguely dismissive attitude towards women of a certain age, and their ability to have a career and young children. A definite fan of the mommy track.
They asked me how was retirement going, and didn’t I have a nice tan from the last few days. First of all, that’s the wrong R word and secondly, when I wasn’t bringing up my two children during the current batch of sunny days, I was locked inside studying. I said as much, and then they asked did it feel weird to be going backwards? Now, it is the guts of fifteen years since I was in college so maybe they meant back in time, but as far as I’m aware further education and personal development always count as going forwards.
So if you want to know how this particular Stay At Home Part-time Student Mother Freelancer Farmer is getting on, just ask me straight out.
I’m doing great. Life is showing definite signs of green shoots.
I convinced my children to come to the library this week – they love reading/being read to but they also love running around shouting so we don’t go as often as I’d like. They have the ability to reign it in slightly and briefly on arrival in the local library’s Junior section so off we went. Once again I had the misguided notion that I might pick up a couple of books for myself. These usually come from the closest shelf to the Librarian’s desk, grabbed by me in between the librarian stamping the myriad of kids selections, me reaching for my random reading material while stuffing umpteen books about underpants* in my bag while corralling the toddler with my left leg. The Dublin City Library catalogue is vast, but yes, I have to pick from the twelve books within my reach on any given visit.**