The cry of a screech owl pierces the stillness of the night heralding his approach. Shadows move in the darkness, shapeless forms that drift in and out of vision. One of the shadows grows more dense, gaining form and substance. He is here.
No one knows his name, or where he came from, they simply call him 'Noir' - The Dark One.
Have I just written the opening lines to the novel I have always wanted to write? - No.
Do I have an idea for a fantastic new graphic novel? - No.
So what the hell am I doing? In all honesty I think I'm going mad, I used to think it was the world that was mad but I'm starting to change my mind. So why? Why the dramatic opening and why am I losing the plot?
Well I'll tell you, I know that we all think that our children are super, well it turns out that some are just a little more 'super' than we give them credit for.
Last week, in my own home, a guy arrived making a 'crime' documentary for Channel 4 - all well and good. Several hours into filming with my eldest son the camera is pointed at me, with enough lights on it to light a sports field and I am presented with the 'revelation' that said son is a secret crime fighting superhero who patrols the streets at night, reporting and fighting crime wherever it may lurk. (No it doesn't sound any better how ever many times I say it!)
It seems that this is something that more and more teenagers and even grown men with families are participating in, and a documentary is in the process of being researched and filmed about them right across the country, showing what they do and why they feel the need to do it.
Am I right to be worried about my sons safety? Am I right is telling him that this is not the way to go about being a role model? (That is what he sees himself as being). Or do I just stay quiet and pick up the pieces when required? This is one of those scenarios that if I condone it and say "yes, its a good thing that you are doing" which I don't believe for a second, that will give him the validation he needs to step up his activities in this area. Yet, if I say "You are placing yourself in danger, you must stop this activity at once, I forbid you to be a superhero!" He will rebel in an act of defiance and go out and do it even more anyway. I am totally at a loss, dazed and confused.
I am not looking forward to this documentary being aired. I am not looking forward to the repercussions, and I am not looking forward to picking up the pieces.
Why is there never anything like this in the parenting books?
Saturday, 26 March 2011
Tuesday, 15 March 2011
I'm Not A Morning Person
I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day. - Frank Sinatra.
I like that quote from Frank, it seems to sum up how I feel every morning, like I've been partying hard, drunk too much, gone ten rounds with a burly stranger and slept in my clothes! Yet in reality I've been home all evening drunk nothing but tea - well maybe the 'occasional' glass of wine for medicinal purposes you understand, and gone to bed on my own (the dog doesn't count). Waking up in the morning after another restless night is hard, so hard that my body seizes up at the thought and I try so hard to resist hitting the snooze button on the alarm. Most mornings I win and I stagger across the landing to wake my son,who I'm sure is just laying there awake waiting for me to say its OK to get up.
This morning was no different, I opened my bedroom door to find a demented husky lying in wait to pounce on me, which he dutifully did. There is nothing quite like the warm smelly kiss of a large dog to bring you back to consciousness! I called my son to get out of bed and headed down the stairs, trying to avoid falling over the dog which was doing his best to trip me up. Still bleary eyed and in the gloom of the darkened hallway I spotted an unusually light patch on the carpet close to the dogs bed, assuming he had been sick through the night I gave him a comforting cuddle and walked through to the kitchen to collect cleaning materials. Returning to the hall, and opening the curtains I discovered that what I had spotted was not doggy vomit but a nice bare patch where there should have been carpet. He has chewed not only through the carpet pile, but through the backing and the underlay, stopping only at the concrete underneath, which even though he is teething and apt to chew whatever he can, was just a little on the hard side for him.
Still, with temper unusually still intact, especially as I found I'd ran out of tea bags and I NEED my cuppa of a morning, we made it through to the school run. The dog watching through the glass of the back door as I we headed out on the short walk to school. I was a little concerned that by the time I got back the hole in the carpet would be the size of a man hole cover, but no, thankfully the carpet had been abandoned. Unfortunately he had found a new pastime to occupy himself.
I came through the door to what looked like an explosion in a confetti factory. He had managed to acquire a complete roll of kitchen towel and had proceeded to unravel, chew and shred every last piece of it. So now having cleared the mess away I an preparing to leave the house again. I fear I may have to duck tape him to his bed in an exercise of damage limitation.
Roll on bedtime.
I like that quote from Frank, it seems to sum up how I feel every morning, like I've been partying hard, drunk too much, gone ten rounds with a burly stranger and slept in my clothes! Yet in reality I've been home all evening drunk nothing but tea - well maybe the 'occasional' glass of wine for medicinal purposes you understand, and gone to bed on my own (the dog doesn't count). Waking up in the morning after another restless night is hard, so hard that my body seizes up at the thought and I try so hard to resist hitting the snooze button on the alarm. Most mornings I win and I stagger across the landing to wake my son,who I'm sure is just laying there awake waiting for me to say its OK to get up.
This morning was no different, I opened my bedroom door to find a demented husky lying in wait to pounce on me, which he dutifully did. There is nothing quite like the warm smelly kiss of a large dog to bring you back to consciousness! I called my son to get out of bed and headed down the stairs, trying to avoid falling over the dog which was doing his best to trip me up. Still bleary eyed and in the gloom of the darkened hallway I spotted an unusually light patch on the carpet close to the dogs bed, assuming he had been sick through the night I gave him a comforting cuddle and walked through to the kitchen to collect cleaning materials. Returning to the hall, and opening the curtains I discovered that what I had spotted was not doggy vomit but a nice bare patch where there should have been carpet. He has chewed not only through the carpet pile, but through the backing and the underlay, stopping only at the concrete underneath, which even though he is teething and apt to chew whatever he can, was just a little on the hard side for him.
I came through the door to what looked like an explosion in a confetti factory. He had managed to acquire a complete roll of kitchen towel and had proceeded to unravel, chew and shred every last piece of it. So now having cleared the mess away I an preparing to leave the house again. I fear I may have to duck tape him to his bed in an exercise of damage limitation.
Roll on bedtime.
Wednesday, 2 March 2011
Emergency Cost Cutting
Well with the double barrelled shotgun of unexpected unemployment staring us squarely in the face this week, steps have had to be taken to stem the flow of money that seems to flow with increasing speed from our accounts. What has struck me more than anything is the fact that we have had money leaving the account that we had forgotten about - mad I know, considering we are supposed to be aware of our spending these days, those 'one off' yet somehow ongoing subscriptions that magically renew themselves every year etc, simply because we are too lazy to cancel them when we should.
So far we have managed to make a good start, (see below), but without more funds coming in its difficult to say just how we are going to pay what's left, I'm just keeping everything crossed that something comes our way soon.
- Virgin TV Package - Pared back to the minumum.
- Virgin Internet Package - Pared Back to the minimum.
- Mobile Phone Packages - Reduced
- Magazine Subscriptions - Cancelled
- Audio Book Club Subscription - Cancelled
- Money Transferred to Savings - Pared back to minimum.
- Charity Donations (Direct Debit) - Cancelled
- Changing from School Dinners to Packed Lunches
- Window Cleaner - Cancelled
- Milk Man - Cancelled
Today is my son's 6th birthday, and whereas last year I arrived at school with a (bought) birthday cake and bags of sweets for all of the children in his class, this year I made home made chocolate and banana cakes/muffins for everyone, including his teachers. Other than the hour spent in the kitchen making three dozen cakes, rather than being on the lap top working, I saved at least £10 by doing it.
We even - after a LOT of searching, managed to buy him his first bike for his birthday, for half the price it should have been, rather than buying the first thing that we saw that he would like - whatever the cost.
There are a lot of learned behaviours that we need to change, and I'm hoping that when we are back in gainful employment that we can maintain some of our new cost effective behaviours as I am sure that they will help over the coming years.
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