Late posting again!
I think I am going to have to re-jig the whole Wednesday and Sunday thing and just go back to winging it.
My excuse this week is mostly football related. Yep, it’s back.
Say good-bye to your weekends girl and get your thermal pants out!
At 3.45 pm on Wednesday, after just arriving back from an expedition to get Tom’s hair cut, a seemingly never-ending and all too frequent experience and shopping with Elsie, another one of my not very favourite hobbies. I had a text from coach asking if Tom was going to training tonight? Training tonight? I didn’t know there was training tonight? So, at this point and while I frantically search through my emails, I huff off upstairs to Tom.
There were two reasons why I was having a huff, the first is that we had been out all day and as yet I had not prepared a blog, assuming that I would have a whole evening ahead of me in which to do this and the second is that Tom has been having a bit of a wobble about football, again. Over the last week I had been talking to him about signing up for the next season and if I am honest he seemed less than keen. However, the trouble with Tom at the moment is that anything that requires a marginal amount of effort makes him less than keen. Still largely only focused on gaming and YouTube (where he watches other people gaming, *confused), he is busy trying to work out how he can be a professional gamer. Don’t get me started!
Trying to establish the pros and cons of returning to football with Tom without losing my shit is hard going. I keep trying to remind myself he is only 12 and therefore he can not hold an intelligent conversation yet, he finds it difficult to express himself still, in ways that make sense, he struggles to say how he really feels about things and he says things that just bloody wind me up. “So, if I say yes then I can leave half way through, if I don’t like it” and “OK, I will do it but I don’t want to go every week” two of my favourite nuggets from yesterday.
Oh to be in Tom’s head.
As I explain again for what seems like the hundredth time, you are either in or out Tom. You can not commit one minute and let everyone down the next. If you really do not want to go then you need to tell me and try to explain why. If you really did not want to go and it was making you feel sad or upset at the thought, then you should be able to explain a little about why you feel that way.
To be fair I could do without spending £140 on fees, not to mention the money spent on boots, getting to and from training and matches AND the loss of every bloody Sunday from my life for the next 6 months, so if you really don’t want to do it then I will take back my Sundays and use them for sleeping instead.
Obviously I didn’t say that but I really bloody felt like it.
“It’s not that I don’t want to go, I just don’t know if I want to go every week.” He mumbles sheepishly. He can usually tell when I am about to lose my temper and he could tell I was getting close.
Taking a deep breath, I go in for the pep talk. With every ounce of calm in my body I try to encourage him to see the bigger picture. A lot of Tom’s reluctance comes from insecurity, feeling like he is not good enough, that he makes too many mistakes. Yes he is a lazy sod sometimes but it is definitely more of a confidence thing than a lazy thing. Reassuring him I try to explain that there will always be highs and lows, that things don’t always go our way but don’t give up at the first hurdle, especially if it is something you enjoy. We all have to learn and learning will be part of everyday life from here on in, to try your best is always good enough, but enjoy it, try hard and believe in yourself. Or words to that effect, anyway, it did the trick.
We are in for another season at least.
In a way I am glad. I know I will hate getting up early every Sunday and the rush after work on a Wednesday to get him to training but it is good for him. It gets him off the XBox for five minutes a week and back to integrating with real life humans. This I think can only be good for him.
This week I also had to pop in to work for a short meeting. I feel like I have been away forever and if I am honest I have loved it. I never look forward to having time off when I am at work, it hard leaving things and trying to make sure you are on top of everything before you go. Then there is thought of everything you will go back to, but as soon as I have left the place it is amazing how quickly I forget about it all. I enjoy my job and I couldn’t be a stay at home Mum, it would drive me nuts but I also enjoy my time off just that little bit more because of it.
Of all the things I love most about the holidays it is the time I get to spend with Tom and Elsie. The realisation hits me every now and then that they will not be around for ever, or at least they wont be mine forever, soon their hearts and minds will be stolen by someone else.
The thing I find hardest at the moment is remebering that Elsie is my daughter and not my friend. Elsie is an old head on young shoulders to a certain extent and while is wise beyond her years and has an extremely responsbile attitude to all things “life” related, she lacks any actual experience of what “life” can be like sometimes, which is great but at the same time she had idealistic notions. Don’t get me wrong I was the same as her at her age and that is how you want your teenage daughter to be, so believe me, in this day and age I am very grateful, she is how she is. However, I do have a tendancy to lean on her maybe more than I should.
Last night (bear in mind that I did try to start this on Wednesday) in a strange turn of events I feel a little bit giddy for the first time in a very long time. I had an unexpected visit from Mr Ivy. It was late, around 10.30 pm when he messaged me to ask he could bring me something, he said that he didn’t expect to come in but if I wasn’t too busy maybe I could go out and see him for a few minutes?
Remember, at this point I haven’t seen Mr Ivy for two weeks now and I was not due to see him until tomorrow (Thursday).
This quickly turned in to one of those moments where you really want to say one thing but end up saying something completely different, with the rational side of me that wants to protect and self-preserve remaining calm and asking what it is that couldn’t possibly wait until Thursday. Inside however, the stupid girly part of me gets all over excited and wants to tell him to get his arse round here now, so I can just stare at him. Not in a weird way of course, well maybe slightly weird.
Instead I questioned his sanity at wanting to come out at such a late hour, like he might turn in to a pumpkin or some other fairy tale like squash vegetable and warned him that I had now bathed, hence I was now slobbing out (quite literally) in my pyjamas. This means no make-up, hair in a bun and (I had noticed earlier), with a giant-sized spot in the middle of my brow, which I was hoping would be gone before he next had opportunity to gaze lovingly in to my eyes… Alright, alright I’m getting carried away but you get my drift.
Anyway, a few moments later and after a short but very frantic mini-meltdown, which Elsie coped extremely well with (sometimes I swear she is older than me in real life), he arrived outside. The visit was short and really quite sweet and… (I can’t quite believe I am going to say this out loud) I felt myself melt, just a tiny bit. A weird feeling that I rarely encounter and really, really struggle to deal with.
After our mini encounter and feeling a little fragile, in the way that I can’t stop this stupidly insane smile and I feel like skipping around the house, but also feeling discombobulated and scared at the same time. I sit with Elsie and we chat how things are going, with Mr Ivy.
It’s weird and although it doesn’t feel wrong to talk to her about him and obviously I don’t tell her everything, I have to remember she is my daughter, so I have to keep it light. One day she will enter in to her own relationships and I hope she still feels that she will be able to talk to me about anything and as a Mother I will do my best to guide her, advise her and comfort her when needed but that is my job. That is the way it should be.
The relationship I have with Elsie is one that makes my heart swell with pride but in my eyes she will always be my little girl and I have to remember that I need to take care of her.
Despite the readiness with which my peas want to leave the pod, they are still children and still need their Mum, maybe more than they would like to admit and maybe more than even I realise sometimes.