So here we go then… At one point I thought I might be Forty Six by the time I got around to writing my first post.
Four hours writing, well back spacing actually, is bloody hard work. Who knew that the things you think are really humorous or heart warming just sound really quite droll on paper.
I thought I might like to write a book one day but that suddenly seems like a gargantuan task. Definitely not one for the bucket list, at least not if you plan on doing anything else.
So as I waffle through my first blog bear with me, my thoughts are not clear like I imagine they should be, they are chaotic and all over the bloody place not helped by my complete lack of concentration. I move from subject to subject at an alarming rate and have noticed that as I get older I am getting worse at keeping myself on track.
The last couple of weeks I have been struggling to think straight, both at home and at work and can only come to one conclusion. It’s my son’s fault.
Two weeks in to the Autumn term and my son’s first year at Secondary School has left me emotional, to say the least. He however, has suddenly become Mr Independent.
In two weeks he has a whole new group of friends I don’t know and am not sure I like the sound of. A girlfriend (we will come back to that one)! He has had a fight. Several detentions, one for forgetting his food tech equipment, one for not doing his homework and one for being late to English. Has become best friends with the bathroom and the hairdryer and always wants to be somewhere I don’t want him to be.
We are only two weeks in. How can so much happen in such a short space of time?
My daughter, who is in year 9 has yet to have a detention, still has the same friends she had in primary school plus a few extras who are all very nice and sweet, for now and granted, I know this could all change. Has never had a fight in her life but could probably win one. Never goes out except for pre-arranged sleepovers and although she is sometimes demanding (mostly of make up), sarcastic and moody, has barely given me a days worry… Yet!
She is not even interested in boys (we will come back to that too)!
As a single, working Mum I must admit that I was looking forward to leaving primary school behind. The constraints of having to drop off and pick up your child, bring your mum to school mornings, class assembly’s, school trips that needs car carrying mums in order that they can go ahead, sports days, school fundraisers… the list goes on and on and on… never-ending parent participation.
This is all very well and good if you don’t have to work for a living but I do. Unfortunately, due to a very bad choice of sperm donor, (and before everyone goes all PC on me I think I’m allowed to call him that, as he is certainly not a father) I have been self-sufficient since my son was only eighteen months old.
In this day and age it is expected that employers are supposed to be understanding of employees who have young children but really how many times a week can you realistically get away with coming in late or leaving early or having a whole afternoon off because Johnny has an award to collect for his castle made out of toilets rolls tubes.
The castle that actually you should be receiving the award for because it took you three days to hound everyone you know for empty toilet roll tubes and stick them all together, turn them in to stones and design a drawbridge, not Johnny, who sat watching CBBC the whole time and only joined in for the painting.
In all fairness it has to be said that if I need time off to attend something child related, with enough notice this is not usually a problem but the time still has to be made up or taken as annual leave… As if that is even an option!
Annual leave is for school holidays. it is not for having a day off so you can do something for yourself.
Anyway I feel I have left the point somewhat, this comes as no surprise to me but you might be wondering where is this is all leading.
So back to said son. This transformation in to a child who thinks he is almost twice his actual age is horrifying to say the least.
Where has my baby gone? I want him back and I want him back now!
I can’t begin to describe my feelings this last couple of weeks as I’ve watched him breeze in to secondary school without so much as a whimper. Yes I know he had a fight, or a near fight, stopped very adeptly by the staff before the first punch was thrown, luckily. As my son is not a fighter, or perhaps I should say wasn’t a fighter.
He is not by any stretch of the imagination a big boy for his age. Despite eating his body weight in food on a daily basis, he is small and skinny and his sister can put him on the floor with the flick of her index finger.
I know that he would most likely have lost the fight had it got that far but the fact that he also knows that and was prepared to stand his ground and tough it out (unlike his days in primary school) makes me want to high five the air.
Obviously I do not condone bullying, fighting or anything similar but I do condone sticking up for yourself when the need arises. The transition in to secondary school is tough. I’ve been there, a long time ago I know but I can’t imagine it has changed that much except the punishments for getting caught are nowhere near as harsh as they once were.
My once (and hopefully still) lovely, well mannered, sensitive boy has gone in with his head up and shoulders back, ready for whatever comes his way and I couldn’t be prouder.
Having said that, I do hope the next few weeks are not quite so eventful and he will settle down. That he will get used to mixing and mingling, the rules and all the homework and being surrounded by so many girls.
This child who has a new-found bravado for life without me. Who never leaves the house without telling me he loves me, has found his wings. They are still growing and not yet strong enough for him to go too far but that’s ok because I am nowhere near ready to let him go.