Kim Kardashian took a naked selfie, and yesterday social media couldn’t stop talking about it. However, it wasn’t her nudity that concerned me. It was the beige-ness of her bathroom.
The 7 year old was stunned. The 5 year old was visibly upset. The 4 year old burst into a rousing rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star when they heard that their hero the Starman had died. Here are a few things that Bowie can teach my boys: Continue reading
Today, I’m thinking about truth.
Sometimes it costs us our friends, sometimes our relationships, sometimes our lives. It’s a virtue. An honourable thing. It benefits each of us as individuals and our species as a whole. Searching for the truth ensures justice, ensures progress, ensures we sleep well at night.
On top of all the things you need to do as parent, I’d like to add one more. I’d like to add:
Be a Philosopher.
You may think, “I don’t have time to grow a beard, don a toga and talk crap all day. I’ve got better things to do like tackle the washing pile, cook for 5 and raise the next generation. Piss off.”
That’s that then. From zero-kids to three-kids-at-school in a total of 7 years.
It’s hardly news to exclaim that the pregnancies, the births and those early years flew by. Well, perhaps not the births, but it does feel like such was the force of that final push, that it catapulted first their heads, then their shoulders, then all of our lives from that hospital room to this point in time at lightening speed.
And now off they go, their first tentatitve steps into the big wide world. Although, when you think about it, they have been out there in the big wide world since the eldest turned 6 months old. Not out on their own in the actual world, but there with a presence in the virtual world.
They are the first generation to have their lives, their successes, and often their parents’ frustrations with parenting them documented via words, photos and witty quotes, perhaps almost on a daily basis. Continue reading
There’s a little boy’s birthday in the house tomorrow. Actually, it’s today – it’s 4am here at the moment.
It’s not sugar crafting and gift wrapping that awoke me, with that un-pinnable downable anxiety that creeps in if you wake between 3 and 5. It’s something more. It’s the overwhelming burden of being a Mum. Pinterest is good for hacks on cake decorating and gift making: parenting existential birthday angst? Not so much. Continue reading
The naked rambler’s brother installed our staircase. Fact. He was fully clothed when he did it. Public nudity is not a family trait. Continue reading
The kids are watching some film or other on Netflix when I hear them sigh. When I investigate I see the circle on the screen spinning round and round. Inundated with info and struggling to find space or capacity or to hear itself above all the other techno babble, the computer is buffering.
“I’m bored” moans the 7 year old when faced with this momentary glitch in his passive entertainment. “Being bored” is a new phrase for him, and a thoroughly depressing one at that. I feel a pang of shame: how did I let this happen? Continue reading
When I was 4 there were some things that I knew.
I knew 1+1 = 2. I knew living in an intergenerational family set up behind the sweet shop that we ran was awesome. I knew Father Christmas existed. I knew the Tories were evil. I knew that you all knew this too.
I wasn’t actually sure what ” the Tories” was. I knew what it looked like: Margaret Thatcher. Continue reading
This morning when I awoke, I was still feeling a little tired, and the kids were acting a little wired. To take the edge off, I sprinkled a little hash on top of their Weetabix and I snorted a line of cocaine.
Once breakfast was complete, with the kids chilled out and me pumped up and ready to go, we got to work. The 6 year old got to work cleaning the gun cupboard while I paid the pimp and said goodbye to the whores who had entertained myself and the husband so pleasurably last night. Continue reading