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Wednesday 17 November 2010

If this isn't parenting, I don't know what the hell it is

So at 8 o'clock yesterday morning, after a bowlful of that delicious porridge I was busy being so smug about, Eldest informed me via a series of wails that she NEEDED her school PE kit, that it hadn't fitted her since LAST YEAR, and she didn't EVEN KNOW where it was.

Could any of you hear the matching parent-and-child screams coming from The Coffee House that morning? Because I swear I heard the dustbin wagon come partway down the street outside and then back right away again with its reverse alarm beeping in terror.

Today has been much better. Who needs therapy when there's the Marks and Spencer website? I may be back here at the weekend bemoaning the fact that none of the Cotton Rich Stripe Waistband Joggers go anywhere towards fitting my long thin streak of a child, but for now, it's like I lit a whole load of candles and said 'Om' for half an hour.

And then this afternoon Littlest and I cut a box up and made a small room for tiny plastic animals and naked Polly Pockets to play in. Want to see?


If anyone is interested in any of the items within the house, a good deal of them are available from John Lewis, since we chopped up a press pack I got from them back in July. That towel, by the way, which Littlest has used as the backdrop for the clock. (An inspired design touch, you have to agree.) The wallpaper. That lamp. That rug. Other items are from an old Charlie and Lola magazine, so may be a little more difficult to source. We're eclectic that way.

And then at bedtime, Eldest and I had a very lovely, intense conversation which left me utterly breathless at just how fantastic my daughter is turning out to be.

Life is so up, so down. Yesterday the PE kit was the last straw; yet another of the blasted heavy balls tumbling out of the air. I was minded all that day to write a post about how hard it all was and how endless and how miserable, how useless I was at it and how awful my kids were and how it had all Gone Wrong.

Tonight I have two wonderful children and a new cardboard house. And no real conclusions to draw.

21 comments:

  1. It *sounds* like parenting to me!

    (God, I used to LOVE my babies in M&S things.)

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  2. seems to me that parenting is a lot like weather, you never quite know what to expect, and just when you get used to it, it changes....

    love the house btw !

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  3. Ah, the rollercoaster. It never fails to baffle me.

    For a moment I though you'd taken a picture of that little playhouse in that little museum in the middle of nowhere. I remember the detachable lamp and ironing board and how your daughter made herself at home in it, said things and did things, whilst mine withdrew and drew things.

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  4. Well my roller coaster has just had two dips in it. Not doing the Storey 'event' after all.
    On the upside I do feel nice and free after two rejections ...might even make my own cardboard house.. then climb in the cupboard and lock the door.

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  5. Sounds terrifyingly familiar. Not that that should necessarily reassure you.

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  6. Well, you know, all this keeping you on your toes business is probably why they say having kids keeps you young at heart. You just CAN'T get stuck in your ways with all that gorgeous chaos around.

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  7. So you're saying I need to make a cardboard house and then I'll like my kids again?

    That's it?

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  8. And you never know when you wake up in the morning whether you are going to be in the boxing ring or on the dance floor. Even now - and I haven't got little ones.

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  9. Parening in this house is like being bi-polar, really great or seriously shocking. No inbetween

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  10. Oh, Lucille - you can understand that does NOT fill me with hope.

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  11. I am sure that this is the best reason for having more than one child. So that when X is driving you to the brink, Y can be terribly sweet and make you think that becoming a parent hasn't been the biggest mistake of your life.

    Mine are adept at swapping the good child/bad child roles and thereby avoiding being skinned alive by a mother with PMT. And you can always borrow your brother's PE kit.

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  12. Bravo for the house! Just the kind of thing my two would love. Maybe you'll come and show it off at the Junk Play Carnival?

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  13. Loved this post. I have a 12 y.o. son and a 6 y.o. daughter. The garbage truck is afraid of our house, too, believe me. But though the crazy moments may be the loudest ones, the wonderful "Wow, he / she does seem to be blossoming into a fabulous human being despite - or partially because of - my efforts" moments resonate longer.

    It IS marvelous to see your child developing into someone you would CHOOSE to know, were they anyone else.

    And I love that little house. That's a great idea for cold days!!

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  14. Working together to actually make something with your children can be a hugely rewarding experience, especially after what my husband calls a mega meltdown! :)

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  15. This deserves a cuddle! So heart warming.. Try adding teenage dramas into the equation, and the highs' and lows are even more dramatic. You hate them and then adore them (well just kinda like them, you admire their passion and energy) much like a marriage really!!!

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  16. I think that's about it, actually.

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  17. You and I are living the same life on separate continents. Earlier this week I was ready to schedule an exorcism for my secondborn (or just run away from home), and now he's so lovable I could just eat him up. It's completely crazy-making, I tell you.

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  18. I don't know if complex paper modelling is the basis for domestic bliss, but just in case gluey accidents and bits of paper stuck everywhere appeal - http://www.ss42.com/pt-scifiction.html

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  19. Ha! I knew that I knew you. I am even an official google stalker.
    Lovely to have met you today. Hope you had a save trip back. Deborah

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  20. Danni yes - it can be hugely rewarding, or it can almost kill you. Either way.

    Cathy I have seen your junk carnival, and I know I am not in the same league.

    You too Deborah - that coffee in the bag smells fantastic...

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