A year ago I sat in the same place - here. There were only sixteen candles on his cake then and his facial hair barely needed tending - how much has changed.Thankfully, Small Fecker, who hit 14 last Monday (yes, I know, bad pregnancy timing) is a few years away from the beach party. He is content to spend a day with his mates playing football but I know that they are both nearly out of my hands.
Tonight I watched Big Fecker and his tribe making their way down the cliffs to the beach with armfuls of booze and then turned my gaze out to sea.
I think we have done our best as parents. Some would consider my morals to be a little adjustable and that Nirvana was not a good band to lull them off to sleep. As I have said before, they don't come with a manual - you make it up as you go along and fight the guilt when they fall by the wayside.
I think they know how much I love them- despite their foul habits and a need to write 'Owen is Gay' on my beautiful retro fridge in permanent ink (that was this morning by SF - Owen is our cat btw). Thoughtless rather than malicious, but I sometimes have to fight the urge to beat them black and blue and remember what a complete numpty I was at that age.
I look out over an aquamarine sea. They are good kids really, one year older and one year funnier, smarter and brighter than they were last year. They can walk when the car has broken down, talk into the night about things they shouldn't know about and argue like politicians. They are shaping up just fine and maybe, just maybe, I had a hand in it, somewhere.
~~~~~~~~~~
Don't forget the competition two posts below.
27 comments:
Isn't it a great feeling? Knowing what kind of men they are becoming, and actually liking them?
My two are always amazing me with things they say and do.
Makes you so proud you could bust buttons!
Oh. My two went to sleep listening to Ian Hunter and Mott the Hoople. ;)
If I bust buttons then I will be half-nekkid again and then what will the postman say!
Roberta, I exposed the Feckers to every piece of music we had and still do. It still amazes me to hear The Stranglers followed by Billy Holiday coming out of their rooms.
It's a stunning picture and good introspect.
I figure if you care enough to be worried, then you did the best you could and they'll be fine.
It's the parents who could care less or even worse, hate their children that worry me.
One of these days they will say something to you, something you taught them, and it will be the reflection of relief... you'll know then that they will be fine.
Scarlett & Viaggiatore
Sorry to double comment... really, I'm not trying to inundate you...
Rob Kistner tagged me with a meme of eights... God bless him... so, knowing you could make a fabulous list, I thought I'd better pass the tag-along to you.
When you get a moment, please stop by my page and get details. I will put a link to your list when you are ready.
Many thanks,
Scarlett & V
Well...my ma never played nirvana for me and my sis, but yeah we did make her listen to all the rock that we know :)
Stay Cool!
N
Well done you!!!
They sound like okay folks!
As you're obviously so good at all this parenting malarky, is my 13 year old meant to come into the room and tell me to turn my music down?
I'm sure I pay the bills! I could be wrong.
I used to put Genni (10) to sleep with the Velvet Underground. Sinead (6) slept to the sound of Liverpool winning a trophy once...!
What a lovely post!
Scarlett, two comments in a row are acceptable, one more and I will consider you a stalker!!
Sorry about the me-me thing - I don't do them as a rule.
Nothingman, Jon and Cailleach, music is as important as breathing in this house. The MD and I usually win the volume wars because we are older, wiser and richer than the Feckers!
Nirvana sounds way cooler than Boney M, which is what I was lulled to sleep with. That and musicals. I finally caved a few years ago and accepted that although it wasn't cool I actually liked musicals and I missed long weekends without the Sound of Music. Sounds like your two got the better deal though!
You seem to have done very well. But I take issue with the 'I maight of had a hand in it'.
Don't you mean their Dad had something in it?
*buggers off sharpish*
V, I grew up with Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Andy Williams, Doris Day, Johnny Cash etc and loads of classical stuff - I still listen now. Don't suppose Boney M has done you any harm!
Do you want a slap, John G?
Birthday hugs to the dear Feckers and their parents.
But I'm curious - what things do they discuss that they shouldn't know about? Does this refer to Owen's sexuality?
Owen has rights! His sexuality is not up for discussion, especially on the fridge!
But is Owen a bit gay though?
Gosh, Matt the Hoople - takes me back!
Minx - you do what you can and you talk to them about thsoe things and then you let go. (They can't be their own persons if they do everything their parents tell them - this is the way they find their own values and morals. They ususally come back to the right choices after a while.
Jon, oh yes, very gay, but that wasn't the point!
And I think 'gay' was used in the confusing way that youth use it today
i.e that's gay = that's not terribly good
Which really means 'Owen is pants' - which is probably true. Clear now?
Hello Mrs Worms, think I definitely threw out the apron and the strings years ago. They are their own people now regardless of my input, or that of their sire (except he gave them all the gross bits).
My children were lulled into a stupor by Irish diddly diddly music...and still are!
tears to the eyes Minxie dear.. I was with you.. my nearly 17 year old likes - oh sweets and stuff...
I like sweets and stuff, Muts. Whatcha got?
Jon, they'll pay you back - diddly, diddly, fer sure, fer sure, so they will. (Did I get the accent right, Babs?)
Me, looking for a slap? You bet your arse I am !! When,when?
oi tink so, ma'am!
Good wife Lin asked the eldest what was good about me as a dad and he shrugged and said, 'He's just Dad.'
The best kind of supports are invisible! fnar fnar.
John G, you're a saucepot!
Jon, don't expect recognition. You barely exist in their world until they want money, a lift, or the Playstation needs fixing!
I just thought - how fantastic - a beach party. Lucky feckers to live in lovely landscape and not have to travel miles to the sea. Thats the only thing the Lemon clan miss about living in London.
Minx let'm go. Down to that beach...
you know they'll always sail back on the return tide ...
Bringing those cans for recycling with them!
We do forget how lucky we are. We can see the sea from our house, but you take it for granted.
A few years ago we had to travel 60 miles to see a decent band or play etc and buses still don't go anywhere you want them to. Ah well.
"One year funnier" - I love that sentiment. As you grow older you do need to be funnier I think. Beautiful view....
You might be able to get that marker pen off with a little nail varnish remover or alcohol. Sorry, this sort of thing always interests me as an ex-chemist.
Post a Comment