The truth of it is that I was woken up to the theme tune of the Lego Movie by Olly. At 6.15am.
Yeah cheers thanks a lot Pops. I stayed up too late reading (again) and was not at all ready to raise my head from my pillow and face the world. But as my blurred vision started to focus, I saw sunshine. Proper honest to goodness sunshine. Early morning sunshine. My favourite kind of sunshine. The sunshine that says "Hey! Good morning! Everything is awesome!"
It was warm too. Maybe not warm warm, but warm enough that I wasn't shivering as I let Beryl and Jean out and gave them their breakfast. And for the first time in months there were eggs. I think that my recent makeover of their space has done them the world of good. They were warm in my hand as I carried them into the house, and showed them to Pops, who was multi-tasking....
Cereal, sequins, glue and a picture of the sun. Off I wafted. Up the stairs to wake up Alfie and sneak a picture out of Sam's bedroom window. Honestly the view is wasted upon someone who spends most of their lives in perpetual darkness. I shall miss this view when we move. Where we are hoping to go has a different view.
And then the grey clouds descended inside the house, as Alfie and I locked horns. Again. This time over the fact that the boxes I had collected for him for his castle making in history class weren't plain. It would be too embarrassing, he said, to take those boxes. Everyone would laugh at him. And don't get me started on the whole milkshake spilt in his rucksack argument.....but any other rucksack in the house looks like a camping rucksack, he said. And it would be too embarrassing to carry it. Everyone would laugh at him.
Oh. My. God. Do you know how hard it is to balance on the high wire that is acute pre-teen sensitivity? I fall off at least twice a day. I never get it right. I think that I'm actually not supposed to get it right. Because what would Alfie do then? He would have no-one to blame. No-one to raise his eyes to heaven to. No-one to yell "I HATE you," at at every given opportunity. I am his whipping boy.
And I'll be honest with you. I'm thinking of boycotting anywhere where there are people waxing lyrical about how wonderful and perfect and good and talented and kind and generous and easy going and talented cooks and supreme sportsmen and all round good eggs their offspring are. It just depresses me. My children are for the most part pretty horrid. I am a harassed, worn down reactive mother. Who still makes pancakes for them on Shrove Turesday. When I should have bought the ready made ones, a microwave, a jiff squeezy lemon and told them to get on with it.
I shall try again at about 3.30 this afternoon. I shall try and be an understanding Mum. I shall try and look at the world from their point of view. I shall try and remember that being a teen is no joke. I shall try and bite my tongue, and choose my battles carefully. I shall not engage with rudeness. I shall be firm but fair. I will not raise my voice. I shall not shout "I hate you too!"
And if all else fails, At least there was sunshine. For a while anyway.
Leanne xx
Hugs to you. I'm afraid I can't offer any advice (yet) but I know it's coming. I think you're doing a great job, Leanne. It can't be easy. I notice you have Bill Bryson books; my husband is a huge Bryson fan. I've listened to a few on CD with him and I enjoyed them. We haven't seen the Lego movie yet but the other day we were at the park with my friend and her kids and they were all singing the song, even her! :)
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you had some sunshine before the stormy waters of trying to raise children took over. It's not easy. Rewarding perhaps. but definitely not easy. Hang in there!
ReplyDeleteAh, lovely, don't feel down. I can't really offer any advice but can reassure you that my two are FAR from perfect. After months of sleeping through, Angus has woken every night at about 1am for the last week, no idea why. And Bella can be stroppy and sulky at times which fills me with a kind of cold fear for the teen (or pre-teen!) we might one day live with...*shudders*
ReplyDeleteI love your photos today. Yes, it feels awesome to wake to sunshine, it really makes such a difference. Is that the actual sea you can see from Sam's room? Stunning. xx
Mine are not a nice bunch either Leanne. Sam is a weepy horrible teenager who thinks everyone else is to blame for his misery. He seems to spend his days in an old manky dressing gown. He sees imaginary specks of dirt on his glass and blames me for it. School shoes are constant battle: too embarrassing, to uncool, to everything. And yes, we've had the same arguments about boxes and backpacks! Annie is like an unexploded bomb, you never know when she goes off (run!). And she is not even hormonal yet.... James is grumpy and Alistair wines constantly. I seem to be as shouty as a sports coach and grumpy. I don't even wear nice clothes (yes, really!). Being a mum may be rewarding in the long term but it seems to be awfully hard on a day to day basis. Hang on in there for those moments of utter love! Cx
ReplyDeleteP.S. I often write about my offspring and tend to omit the unpleasant aspects of motherhood because maybe I am trying to convince myself that they are wonderful beings. Feeling guilty (and writing a blog post in my head as I type)
Oh yes - I recognise your sentiments only too well. Mine are now 21, 19 and 16 and the end is in sight. Persist, grit your teeth - go and cry behind a tree in the park like one of my colleagues used to do. Most of all do not believe those who say they do not have children like that. For most children, it is what happens with mixed degrees of intensity. They are testing you, they are wanting you to stick to your guns but are daring you not to. My best advice is to choose your battles. Chin up, deep breath and know you are not alone.
ReplyDeleteThank goodness the sun shine for you today. I always felt smug mothers whose babies slept all night were inveterate liars etc etc. I remember my teens shouting " I hate you" and when I responded "well I have enough love for the both of us" the response was ... "Well I hope it chokes you!!!! " And then when the fields of the battleground are empty. The combats are over. The beds are empty and neat. There are no cereal bowls and stinking towels under the bed. Yet the cupboards are full.....you miss them more than life itself. How easy it is to say all this when horns are free, not locked !
ReplyDeleteI have no advice to offer but love the wonderful bloggers above who have 'told it like it is'. The cornflakes family is a myth you might have the golden sunshiny morning and the brand name cereal but that's probably as far as central casting goes cos the actors sometimes don't live up to expectations. And if you are not perfect then you are simply introducing your kids to the reality of the world, for sooner or later they are going to have to realise even mum and dad are human beings - shock horror!
ReplyDeleteI completely agree Leanne. I butt heads all the time with my eldest and I can only see it getting worse. I spend quite a lot of time telling myself I will be calm next time, but within thirty seconds he has driven me nuts again. He knows EXACTLY how to do it. I think we just have to hope that one day we will come out of the other end of the tunnel. What a beautiful view from your window, lucky you. I shall look forward to seeing your new view one day. Thank you for your lovely comment for me the other day. It always makes me feel better when you say "Chin up buttercup". Always. CJ xx
ReplyDeleteeeeeek sounds like me and poppy and shes only 6!!!! xxxxxxx
ReplyDeleteI'm afraid that I cannot offer any advice either, but I am sure that you are doing your best and that you are a great Mum. I'm not sure that there is such a thing as a perfect teenager, you have to have your moments as that is part of life, so anyone who says otherwise is I think missing something. Anyhow, I hope that things improve soon or that you get a break from it somehow. Take care. xx
ReplyDeleteBeen there and done that Leanne and it does pass, eventually!
ReplyDeleteChin up! Oh and that sunshine is glorious isnt it?
Oh sweetie you are not alone and I can already tell you that I will be in the very same shoes in a few years as I/we are already struggling with our six year old, boy it is constant and it is bloody hard work. I feel like I am the worst parent all the time and you know all we can do is our best and hopefully one day it will all be ok. I have read countless books about this subject matter, one in particular 'raising boys' is a gooden, but my fave must be 'how to talk to children' it is a bit of an eye opener and to be honest I struggle, but at least I try and that is what you are doing hon, you're trying, so pat on the back, get those Madonna records on and do a little jig especially to this gorgeous sunshine, stunning photos btw xoxo
ReplyDeleteThank you for being honest. I have 3 boys, one the same age and stage as Alfie, and identify with what you're describing - pancake day too! Hang in there. I know what you mean about avoiding certain blogs (won't name names!) Lovely photographs too.
ReplyDeleteThank you. xx
DeleteOh hunni ... it does get better, honest. Although I also avoid the 'my kids are perfect' people, particularly because no kid ever was. I currently have a post teen behaving like he's ten years younger ... with the exception that ten years ago I swear I didn't have to remind him to shower! But generally my four are turning out okay, not perfect mind, but they'll do. And I intend to behave very badly when I'm old as payback ;)
ReplyDeleteHah is he 12 by any chance sounds sooo much like my 12 year old boy....Daisy j xxxx
ReplyDeleteoh yes, already avoiding all those places! Heather
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