I have a new theory on teenagers (and tweenagers for that matter.) They have invisible gremlin-type "friends" (along the lines of Drop Dead Fred) who gradually assert their mischievousness with ever increasing audacity as the teenage years progress. Who else makes the mess, misplaces stuff, forgets to put dirty clothes out, accumulates bath towels in the bedroom, and is responsible for the chocolate and lolly wrappers discovered, by Mum, under the bed. And who must have put that dirty plastic cup with chocolate milk remnants IN the bedside table drawer. NOT the teenager, apparently.

Backtracking a bit to the early formulation of my theory, here's an example. Ms 15 cannot find her black netball skirt. She huffs and puffs about it each Tuesday as if it is the fault of She Who Does The Laundry. SHDTL, by the way, is unmoved. Well, that part isn't hard, when the room of Ms 15, until recently looked like this:

Then, when Ms 10 couldn't find her swimming costume (before swimming squad) yesterday, Ms 15 also commented that she was missing a couple of pairs of blue undies, as well as the netball skirt. "I tell you, things go missing in this place." she says.

When Ms 15 was out today I decided to go looking for "things" in her room, and happened to look under the bed. OM effing G. There was a lot of "stuff" under there. Including the aforementioned litter. And dirty underwear. (Unfortunately not the blue ones.) And a truckload of dirty tissues. Several water bottles. And other stuff. Like a jigsaw puzzle, for instance.

Her fault?! Of course not. The "oh my goodness, how the hell did that all get there?" look on her face would have been priceless if I wasn't so bloody annoyed. She cannot imagine how the dirty underwear got there - she hasn't worn those for ages. (I cannot even bear to go so far as to give you the description of the dirty underwear... and I couldn't bring myself to take a photo of the pile of under-bed detritus that I left for her to clean up on the floor.) And seeing she doesn't wea them anymore, she should just throw them out, right? She also can't imagine how the dirty cup got there - in the drawer?!! Just plain weird, that one.

Of the four (4) towels hanging around the room, one had an orange stain on it. The 'child' who paints in her bedroom insists that it isn't paint, and she cannot imagine what it could possibly be, or how it got there.

After giving her some time to clean up, I went upstairs and looked in on her. Ok, so the rubbish was cleared (but not yet out in the bin) She was sitting on her bedroom floor doing the jigsaw puzzle. As you do, when your mother has just called you home and given you a lecture about the disgusting crap under your bed. And then you roll your eyes and wonder why in heaven's name your mother is just a bit stroppy. After all, she is innocent, and so Mum has no grounds for being cranky. Right?

So it's gremlins, patently.

OK, well, if not gremlins, then it is an orchestrated plan by the three of them to send me insane.

Yesterday when I got back from driving Ms 10 to swimming - in her beach bikini, seeing the one-piece was still MIA (as a tweenager, she isn't as adept at the 'must be SWDTL innuendo' strategy ) - I discovered that Ms 13 had decided to bake shortbread biscuits as presents for her friends. (Instead of cards, you see, which I support in theory. But...)

She is my competent one in the kitchen (moreso than her older sister - after all, she can break an egg, while Ms 15 still refuses to do so...) - however time management is still not a strong point. Within minutes of me arriving home, she actually had to be ready for a lift to netball, and this is the kitchen bench I was left with:


With that tray waiting to go in the oven. Ah, and with one tray IN the oven - with 10 minutes to go on the timer. (Lucky I noticed THAT, given that shortbread takes only 15 minutes, and she was going to be gone for over 2 hours.)

Lots of room for Mum to prepare dinner. NOT.

Probably Fred, the Gremlin, made her do it.

Either that, or the three of them are plotting to slowly nudge me over the edge into a breakdown.

.

Labels: kids, teenagers

Ms 9 is heading out the door to school this morning, thinking about what to expect today.

"Oooh!" she gasps. "Today is going to be the BEST day!"

"How so?" I enquire.

"Because most of the boys are going to be away at a footy day somewhere!"

She skipped out with a broad smile.

There's not a lot to look forward to at school this year in other ways - ie. in the teacher department - so I guess, as a Year 4 girl, you takes your breaks when you can get them! A day at school with hardly any boys mucking up and being ANNOYING! Yee ha!

Labels: kids

Artist: My girl, Cait.

She's got to be able to earn money from this sort of talent, don't you think?

Labels: kids

Why on earth would a Mum and Dad want to take a picture of their two oldest girls, together? I mean, what on earth would be the significance of them both playing rep netball? (Even if it is for different associations at this point)? What sort of weirdo parents would think it'd be nice to get a picture of them, together, in their respective rep dresses at a rep carnival? I mean, ewwww.

Who knows.. parents are a bit weird like that sometimes.


Yes, Cait, we know Ali doesn't have a patch on right now, but getting you both off the court at the one time isn't that easy at a rep carnival. (Heaven knows, we didn't manage to do it all of last year...) Just imagine the C for Centre patch on her chest eh.

And don't get too close either. You wouldn't want to be seen with your arms around each other's shoulders or anything chummy like that....

Yep, and thanks for the goofy grin.


(Really, darling, it's only because we want to record the fact that we will spend several Sundays this year watching you girls play rep netball, and in years to come we'll present it as proof of our undying commitment to you. Or something like that.)

Labels: kids, netball, photos

'Would you like me to do some magic?' asked the very sweet purple fairy hovering over me as I was finishing my lunchtime coffee and reading the paper.


'Ooh, yes... I'd love to have all the lunch stuff magically cleared up, so I don't have to do it!' I said with alacrity. You don't want to miss these sort of opportunities do you...



'Sorry, I don't do cleaning up. I'm a messy fairy.'

.
. .
.

*sighs* - I guess you get the fairy you deserve.

Labels: kids

We're at Grandma's place. We've had a nice dinner that she has cooked, and then she jumps up and starts rattling dishes around in the kitchen. I make noises about helping, but she tells me to stay at the table.

"I made the mess so I clean it up" she said.

"Yeah, but that kind of sucks, really..." I say... and everyone at the table knew exactly what I meant. Except Ms 9, who starts up as if from a reverie and says:

"But why? That's how it is at home!"

Labels: duh, kids

I have no idea what it was all about... and it's crap quality because it was taken on the digital camera movie option... and the big sisters ambushed the little sister.. but it makes us laugh.

Labels: kids

It is probably an act of protest - seeing that all the words she has employed haven't really worked. It's 8pm, and the cooking of dinner is in process. As I ask her to remove herself from the computer (where she has sat in a huff all day) and set the table, I realise that she is still in her pyjamas! Still.. not showered and changed. STILL! (No, I didn't pay much attention to her today!!)

Mind you, this final act of protest has stung less than the accusations that only a 14 year old can fling. Seems we have scarred the poor girl for life because we aren't doing anything on New Year's Eve. Seems that last year we sent them to bed before midnight, and OMG! She doesn't want to have such a rotten NYE again. They want to be 'crazy' and stay up till midnight... *sob sob*

Mind you, her first line of attack was to ask if she could go into town to the Jetty Carnival with friends. Whoa there! Quantum leap from what you've been allowed to do so far without supervision - and.. so... no. Not New Year's Eve. With drunk people around. Etc.

So, why couldn't we invite people around? You need other people to be able to run around crazy with...

Well.. there's the problem of the house that looks like a disaster zone, and if you want visitors then you need to pitch in and help with some cleaning up.

Which? Hasn't happened.

And, sorry, I felt too crook yesterday to even think about preparing for visitors.

And so we are the worst, most boring parents a 14 year old could ever be saddled with....

Sorry about that kid.

So it's the fireworks on telly.. and if you don't annoy us too much you can stay up and watch the midnight ones.

Ah yeah.. well.... HAPP-Y NEW YEAR then, everyone. Hope yours is more exciting than ours!

Labels: kids, parenting

It's been an emotional week.

There's the Christmas lead-up, of course, and I am going through much inner and outer turmoil as I try to manage the raging conflict I have over it. That would take me another post and a half to explain how stressed I am over trying to de-stress the whole damn thing. It is only significant here in that everything contributes (including the inevitable and ever-present out-of-whack hormones) to this gooey, blubbery mess you see before you.

There was the primary school presentation on Monday of course, with the highest academic accolade going to a second daughter! I did have to blink away a few tears, even though I knew she was in line to get it.

(Then there were the rollercoaster emotions over the eldest daughter... but I'm on a fairly even keel with that now. Sort of.)

After school on Monday Alison and I did a frantic 'Eleventh Hour' shop to buy a dress for her Yr 6 Farewell... the dress code was "good casual" ... but it had to be the 'right' dress, and the one eventually bought on the weekend after some other dramas had produced tears once we were home, because it wasn't the right dress. At 5.25, just as the shop was shutting we found The One (though I had to get ribbons sewn on as straps the next day!)

On Tuesday at school they had their 'graduation' assembly. It was a fairly casual affair, with a slideshow of photos from their year (mostly of their recent Sydney excursion).. and then a trot across the stage to each receive a certificate folder.

But then the two Year 6 classes stood and sang "Forever Young", and the tissues were coming out all over the place. I was fine until I saw a friend's mum dabbing her eyes, then I too succumbed. That trick of sticking your tongue on the roof of your mouth? It only partly works. It was straight on with the sunnies as we spilled out into daylight, and round to our 'kids' for more kisses and hugs.

And I have been a blithering mess ever since - whenever I even think of the damn song. Perhaps the lyrics aren't quite applicable.. yet they are. And even though it's my middle child reaching a milestone in her life - moving on from primary school to high school (so I've been there before, and I'll be there again) I can't stop the tears from welling up.

She is bright, smart, clever... tough, yet fragile. Capable, yet infuriating at times! And the one minute you are full of hopes and wonder at her future.. and just so excited for her to be going off to high school - and the next you want to just freeze this moment forever.

And look at her - she's just gorgeous.

And here I go with the tears again:

Labels: kids, parenting

"Does this count as a special occasion?" asks Ms 12.

The kid has just got Dux of her primary school, plus picked up Senior Girls Swimming Champion and a Distinction award. Ms 9, in Year 3, got a Academic Achievement Award and a special Library award.

So the first thing asked of us when the Presentation has finished and we go over for the 'I'm very proud of you' hugs and kisses is whether it qualifies for the official family "special occasion" soft drink-for-dinner celebration !!

I think so!

(Second thing she said was 'Should I be glad you don't wear lipstick?'... as I planted kiss upon kiss on her cheeks...)

So perhaps I should find something a bit more special than a mere bottle of raspberry lemonade! #1 is also receiving something - again - (got a letter advising us of such) at her high school presentation tomorrow.

Yes, two pretty chuffed parents here... and if I can't brag about it on my blog, where can I?!

Somehow, amidst the chaos that is this house, we are raising three pretty bright cookies. An accident of genetics, perhaps? Or a gong for chaotic parenting. All three so far, have been collecting academic achievement awards all through school. (I confess... their Dad got Dux of his primary school... and Nana (paternal grandmother) got Dux of her junior high school (before having to leave at age 15) so you don't need three guesses as to the source of the dominant gene!)

No pressure on #3 either... with #1 getting Dux of the same primary school three years earlier. I am glad for her sake that she has also been achieving academically from the beginning. Even though we would never put pressure on her, following in the shoes of two big sisters getting the peak academic award of their primary school is pretty daunting stuff.

I'm also aware (from my own experience... where I was always the 'bridesmaid and never the bride' but achieving near the top of my year all through school) that academic stuff isn't the be all and end all. (Just look at what I have achieved 'academically' with the rest of my life.... NOT.)

But meantime, champagne and fizzy drink and cake and chocolate just might be the order of the day... or even the week.

(And maybe we just might head out for a celebratory dinner tonight!)

Labels: kids

The primary school had a Bike Education day today - so it was a good impetus to ride to school with Zoe, who is still not the most confident 9 year old solo bike rider you've ever seen. (In fact she's probably one of the least confident - she can hang on for grim life on the back of a triplet bike going at 80 km/hr downhill and not scream "slow doooowwwwn" anymore, but put her on her own bike and she just doesn't have the bike handling skills that most kids years younger than her have. She never did, even before we got into the tandems; guess it's just one of those things that doesn't come naturally to her.)

We rode together to school and I kissed her goodbye at the school gate this morning , arranging to meet her up in the school grounds at the end of school - around 3.10 pm.

Guess who totally forgot?

Guess who was on the phone *yak, yak, yak* and at 3.30 suddenly realised where she should have been 20 minutes ago?

Guess who was crying when I met her half way to school, another mum/teacher's aide riding with her and suggesting all the possible reasons Mum might have been late. (Just plain FORGETTING wasn't one of them, incidentally.)

Guess who promised to blog it (seeing she tells enough tales out of school about her children's misdemeanours?).. and at least raised a bit of a wry smile.

Labels: bike riding, kids, losing my mind

[No, we haven't left yet.]

And it's a miracle I haven't strangled anyone (particularly Ms 12 with the "I can't find it, I've looked everywhere" thermal top.)

Or opened something stronger than a can of coke.

Marc and Cait left early this morning for their Touch tournament, leaving the rest of us heaps of time to pack. Silly me, I thought it was going to be stress free, what with several hours till we have to leave.

Alison and Zoe have been at each other all morning. That's hard enough at the best of times. [ie. Must.. resist... urge.. to... bang.. heads... together....]

But intermingled with the tears and tantrums, and the tearing up of packing lists.. there were missing items of clothing - and then pigsty that is their bedroom ... and well, if I had a stash of valium, I'd be popping it like House and his vicodin.

I was more mad about the missing stuff because it is "specialised" clothing - polypropolene top and pants to keep you warm when you're wet - not just a favourite t-shirt. (We just refer to them as our 'thermals'.) If you're going to take kids on "adventures", then appropriate clothing is a must, and thermals are a good basic item to take wherever, because they keep you warmer when you're wet. (I still have bitter memories of the only snow trip I went on as a kid, which I hated because I was so damn cold... the problem being I didn't have appropriate clothing.)

They've had them for several years now - and we've already gone through at least one 'hand-me-down' stage with them. Some are lurid rainbow stripes, some just navy. I don't know, I've lost track of who owns what. It just shouldn't be that hard to put clothes away.. should it? But, given the weather forecast, it wasn't something I would feel good about saying 'too bad' about if it couldn't be found. (There are consequences, and there are consequences..)

Eventually, after much storming around and yelling by me, (and sobbing on Alison's part) it turned out that Zoe had packed Alison's pants. I found Zoe's pants in the 'putting away' basket that Alison had "already looked through".

I was putting various bags back on top of the wardrobe (after looking through them all AGAIN), and I stepped back down off the chair onto my bung knee, which buckled and sent a shooting pain through me.

Amidst the tears (mine this time) I then found Alison's top scrunched up in a wooden box on the bottom of the shelves, despite the fact that she had "already looked EVERYWHERE".

It was all I could do not to tie it round her neck and pull it tight!

S'ok... I am ok now, and it all seems rather trivial... and it is. Funny what stirs you up, isn't it?

Just about ready to go, and not before time, because if I hear another 'Muuuum... she's got something of miiiine', I still might just scream!

Of course, then we'll have the 'three across the back seat' fun all the way to Sydney.

What FUN!

I'm really off now!

Labels: kids

When we brought home our first little bundle of joy, we realised pretty quickly, as expected, that the accustomed 'us' time of an evening was going to be disrupted. For some years at least - especially when we had another two babies after that one!

We are pretty fortunate to have had reasonably good sleepers... compared to many horror stories I've heard. We had occasional 'issues', but nothing like ongoing reflux or the like to deal with.

Our first child, in particular, seemed to have inherited our 'night owl' genes - it was difficult to put her to bed at night, but once she was asleep we'd get a good 10 hours out of her, and consequently the luxury of sleeping in. Swings and roundabouts, as they say. We could cope with that. Even if , when she hit toddler age, we went through a period of having to lock her in her bedroom listening to her scream till she fell asleep. She used to climb out of her cot.. and later the bed... and then fall asleep on the floor - on one occasion right up against the door! (I promise there were no scratch marks on the door!) The 'tough love' worked and we gradually got our evenings back again.

Being the disorganised person that I am, even as the kids were older, I was never capable of getting them to bed as early as 6 or 7pm like some people, so I probably did myself out of a fair bit of 'potential 'no kids' time. The flipside was that they have never woken us at the crack of dawn, so we were ok with that. And once they were old enough, we were always guaranteed some 'us' time for a few hours. Probably we started going to bed later and later just to get that 'no kids' time in the evening after they'd finally gone to bed, but still.

Wind on the years. I always feared that #1's sleeping habits would come back to bite us, and so they have. Even before she was a teenager she was a shocker to get out of bed in the morning. Payback time for all those times we smugly slept in on weekend mornings - people who rang at 8 am and woke us could not believe it was possible! - "But you have a baby!" they cried in disbelief.)

Now we have to all but drag her out of bed by 7.45 - in time for her to catch the school bus at 8.15. She resents any attempts to wake her any earlier than that, and we've had a few ding dong arguments over that. (Along the lines of "I am not your maid. If it suits me to wake you at 7.30 so I can get on with what I need to do, then I will wake you at 7.30.")

We are coping with that. An uneasy truce, you'd call it. (And hilariously she's just taken on a paper run two days a fortnight, and so has to get herself up before 6.30! - Love it.)

The worst bit is the inclination for them to stay up later and later. Both the 14 and 12 year old are shockers to get to bed. They dilly dally, and, inexplicably, often manage to take an hour between being sent to bed, and actually getting between the sheets. They sneak down the stairs and watch tv shows from behind our backs. (Then the reading addiction kicks in, which is another problem, but at least they aren't downstairs with me.) Why they do this constantly amazes me, because all they get is one cranky mother. They even joke about me turning into The Woodpecker - which is the type of kiss they get when they finally manage to say their goodnights. A hard peck born of the frustration of umpteen "GO TO BED"s. Get the picture?

Last night Ms 14 was dragging her heels on a school assignment.. She was still working on it at 10.30, and as I got stroppier and stroppier I realised that it was more than just annoyance that she'd wasted time in the afternoon when she should have been doing her homework. THIS was intruding into my downtime with Marc. Again. It's slightly more precious downtime too, given the years he worked away so much and I only had myself for company every night.

Having to share this evening time with one's offspring is going to become even more commonplace - particularly when we have the computers in the loungeroom. (I am loathe, however, to succumb to allowing her computer/internet access in her room - though how we are going to manage that when she is in senior high school I'm not sure.)

And so we come full circle, and I am going to have to get used to a phase of parenting where we lose our ''us' time again. Either that or build a bigger house, give them unfettered internet access in their rooms.. or start counting down till they move out.

Am I awful that I want and need that 'no kids' time with the Daddy of my children?

Labels: kids, parenting

The kids are back at school today. If asked to write about their holidays, their pieces would probably be titled along the lines of "My boring school holidays.'

I confess that either side of our 100 mile ride, their two weeks off were a bit of a non-event. I'm feeling a bit guilty about it (as only I can) but this time round I just couldn't find the energy to make their stay-at-home holiday particularly eventful or entertaining. Mind you, I don't think there is anything wrong with kids learning to entertain themselves. In our house, being bored is not allowed. And neither is inviting friends over if your rooms aren't tidy... so noone got to invite any friends over. Unfortunately this meant a bit too much sitting inside with either internet, TV, or (in Zoe's case) a book. I did let Alison and Zoe take themselves to the beach a few times.. time to let the apron strings out a little... though it did mean I worried the whole time they were gone.
I didn't get round to taking them to the movies, or iceskating, or anything 'fun'. But I suppose they will survive.

The first week I was a bit sidetracked with getting things in order for our ride (I'm not sure what the excuse for the second week was - getting over it?) I did a couple of very short rides on my bike when I shuttled cars back and forth to the mechanics, (and haircut appointments!) I also had a massage one day and a chiropractor appointment another. Needless to say all those 'me' things ate into each day, leaving no time for entertainment. (Besides which they could have gone shopping the day I went to the chiro and they chose not to!)

For these holidays Cait agreed to cover for someone's morning paper run while they were away. This involved six early mornings each week - 4 days there were only about a dozen houses to deliver to, but Saturdays and Wednesdays involved delivering to every house over a route of a couple of blocks - all supposed to be done by 7.30 am. Despite the fact that paper rounds don't pay much, I didn't think it was a bad thing for her to learn some responsibility, and to actually earn some money for herself. Plus I relished the opportunity to see her get herself up at 6.30 each morning! Ha! School day get-ups will be like a sleep-in from now on!

So much for great ideas - she promptly got sick on that first Monday, and Alison took over for pretty much the rest of the week. Theoretically this could have gone off without a hitch (lessons in responsibility still apply) except for the part where she enlisted a friend's help on 'the every house' Wednesday delivery, then lost the map (which had the house numbers for the specific deliveries on the other days)... It all ended ok - the friend had accidentally taken it home BUT neglected to let her know; meantime Ali had spent more than half an hour walking the streets looking for it, and another half an hour listening to us ranting and raving about Responsibility. The Consequences meant not being ready to go to the movies in time with the above friend - I hope that friend learnt a lesson as well.

So Cait had come down with some lurgy - sore throat, cough... which ended up with a visit to the doctors and a course of antibiotics. She used that as an excuse to do the Sloth Thing for many days, and while she wasn't sleeping in she assumed a position either sprawled on the lounge, or slouched in front of the computer, sporting headphones, and watching episode after episode of Jonathan Creek. For some reason this irritated me a fair bit - probably something to do with having to yell to get her attention. I get pretty cranky when any of them sit there for hours... even though I do it myself. Nothing like a hypocrite for a mother...

Happy days. But hey.. we were going camping on the weekend! It was something for them to look forward to?! Surely!

I spent the Friday on the computer finalising certificates in anticipation of everyone finishing the ride, plus thank you certificates for the support drivers. And doing up maps (which some appreciated at least - I tried not to be too put off by those who didn't worry about where they were going. I suppose the idea was that we kept together, but even so, I know that I like to know where I'm headed!) Why did I leave doing all that till the day before? Who knows.

Our very short Brooms Head camping experience could probably warrant a post of its own (if I ever get round to it... maybe I'll get a few photos up some time, though it was basically characterised by a northeasterly wind buffetting the campsite on the Saturday afternoon - and getting up at sunrise, packed and on the road before 7 am!) The older two girls made friends with other girls their age who were riding in the support vehicles, so it wasn't all bad. Plus it doesn't hurt them to be helping out their parents for a change. (Thinking many netball carnivals here!) Life isn't all about them.

After that, still nothing much happened the second week of the holidays. Caitlin was back on the paper run, but Alison took up the coughing baton (and is still running with it a bit..) The weather was rather morose (with moods in synch) but at least from my point of view there was a let up in the requests to go to the beach.

Marc went away for work for two nights, but I impressed myself by getting up insanely early on another morning and driving into town for a 6 am/25km community bike ride. I probably won't manage that one during term time, seeing I am a SAHM who doesn't work because she wants flexible hours so she can be home to get her children off to school!

They all got a bit lucky towards the end of the week and got invited to friends' places - although Alison had to endure accompanying me shopping around for a new washing machine on Thursday, and Caitlin got to come with me on Friday to get the car air conditioning overflow pipe fixed. (It was dumping water on my foot whenever we went round corners! Bearable for me, but not ok for the carpet. ) At least she also got to go shopping for some clothes.. and I actually didn't mind the one on one time with her.

They had their last paper round on Saturday morning (though they have agreed to take week about on another one with a friend), and so Marc and I were back on our tandem for our 7o-something kilometre return trip for the community ride.

Cait and Marc had Touch training on Sunday morning, which meant the whole family couldn't go on a 46km BUG ride that sounded good. [We now need to be training for the Gong Ride which is now only in 3 weeks time! Did I mention we are doing it again this year with the kids? Guess what we need to be doing a lot of over the next few weekends?] He suggested Alison and I ride a tandem together (even though I intend to ride with Caitlin ) and so we did - Alison bribed with the fact that there was another girl her age going to be there- on the back of our old tandem, in fact - and me bribed by the fact that she'd probably pedal harder to keep up with the other girl!
I don't think she had a bad time; and I enjoyed the ride anyway.

When you write it all out, it probably doesn't seem that bad after all, and it probably wasn't.

Except that if you made it to the end of this post without falling asleep, you are probably as much in need of a 'life' as I am!

The End.

Labels: bike riding, holidays, kids

Late this afternoon I started asking Ms 14 to help me with dinner. She accused me of trailing off with my sentence, which she finds frustrating. Seems I do it a lot. She is probably right - I think I do do that. Something I have to work on. I told her that when she is at the computer I sense she isn't actually listening, so I tend to sort of give up. (When I don't yell that is!)

She says: "Oh I do hear you. I just ignore you in the hope that I'll get away with staying here longer... "

Oh REALLY?!!!

You'll keep kiddo.

****

On a similar theme, a couple of days ago she was talking again about her improved maths result, because since then she has come home with a Merit Certificate for "Effort in Mathematics" (which her father and I promptly "claimed" because we are the ones who made all the 'effort'.)

She babbles: "And I was talking to my friend about how on earth I got that because I hate Maths and I don't work at it, and my friend said "I reckon... but just imagine what you could do if you actually tried!"... and I said "Shut up, you sound like my parents."

Hope she sticks around that friend. She sounds like a sensible girl!

Labels: kids, parenting

My daughter's friend apparently told her grandmother (who she lives with) that she wishes she was more laidback. "Like Tracey is." Apparently I'm 'cool' because my house is a mess and nothing seems to faze me. (Poor Grandma. Apparently she is more the 'clean freak' type. Who knew that having a clean and tidy house was not something to be admired...) The grass is always greener, of course.. or as this same kid said this afternoon. "How come your toast tastes better than our toast?" So we've coined a new phrase - "The toast is always browner..."

Given that I tend to feel embarrassed about the kids' friends coming round to my dirty, messy house, it hasn't done my self esteem any harm. Heaven knows, much of the time I don't feel like I'm getting anything right....

For example:
Last week said self esteem did take a bit of a battering when said daughter was telling me about a 'Bio Poem' they had to write at school. Bio as in biographical. (Or auto-biographical to be more precise.) She told me they had to include stuff like their favourite things, and things they feared. And up there with Daleks on that latter list was "Mum when she's angry."

Oh!

Apparently when I get cross, and yell, and bang things around and stomp up the stairs, it's scary. Though given she was telling me this with her arms wrapped around me, and the fact that she was telling me at all, I rationalised that maybe, perhaps, hopefully, she isn't really scarred for life. (And I can't be that bad, if her best mate is of the opinion that I'm laidback... Can I?)

I still needed some saving grace though, and so I asked her who was scarier when mad - me or Dad. "Oh Dad, definitely" she said without a second's hesitation.

I quite relished recounting that bit to him later. Not that it puts either of us in the running for any parenting awards...

I'm also pretty crap today because, according to Ms 14, there was nothing to eat in the house when she got home from school. Only stuff that 'tasted like cardboard'. There were crispbreads. (Lo-fat.... yep, I suppose that's like cardboard.) But there was toast! Good toast, even, so I'm told.

Hmmm... Obviously my kids don't know which side their "toast" is buttered on.

Labels: kids, parenting

Gotta love it when you get that Look from your teenager.

Labels: kids

Well, no, but you'd have thought I just did.
I'm just that sort of Mum. Suggesting incredulously ridiculous things.

[8am, yesterday, 15 mins before Ms 14 has to catch the bus to school]:
"Mum, mum, can you sign my sport choice form for next term. It's due in today."

[wondering why this wasn't brought out last night]:
"Basketball again? Why don't you try something different?... like.... there's Surf Awareness. (Run by a guy who is the President of the Surf Lifesaving club, and who also is our swim coach. So I think she'd learn something. ) Umm.. or what about trying yoga? "

"Are you out of your mind? Like, I hated Nippers when I did it..."

"... Yes, but this would be another way of picking up a bit more surf knowledge without having to do all the nipper stuff that you hated."

" OH MY GOD, Mum... They do THEORY and stuff... Why would I want to do that? I'm supposed to look forward to Wednesday afternoon sport, not dread it."

[Mum ponders whether school sport is meant for just stuffing around or....]

"And YOGA? I can't believe you think I should do YOGA! Oh my GOD!... [turning to sisters].. She thinks I should try YOGA?!!!"

[Grasping at straws] "Well, if you don't want to use this as an opportunity to try different stuff, don't expect me to pay for you to do iceskating in Term 4, which I know you will want to do.."

[She grabs sheet and slams out the door muttering that I only have to sign it if the sport involves a cost.
This morning she presents the sheet muttering that I still do have to sign it. As a concession she's put Yoga in at Preference #4, knowing full well that she'll get First preference, basketball, anyway. I give up and just sign the damn thing.]

***
I've thus had a day of pondering my parenting- in regard to this issue, and still have no answers. I mean, do you just go along with whatever the little darling wants, or do you have a duty, as a parent, to try and encourage them to think beyond their own little world? To look outside the square, to branch out and try new things? Where do you draw the line of toughness on it? If you just meekly make a suggestion, you may as well not make it at all, because the initial reaction will always be 'You're a moron Mum.'

We (Marc and I) are also pondering our instinctive reaction to her maths. After that last saga, where I finally threw my hands up and stopped nagging her to study (in a 'lead the horse to water, can't make it drink' fashion), she has come home with vastly improved test results lsat week, placing SECOND in the class with the major part of the test. (Gaining something like 85%). Pending some more results from kids who did the test later, and the results of the 'non-calculator' section of the test. Still the teacher gave her a Commendation Ticket for it. So she is all 'Go me!' Woot! I am a legend!' And, being terrible parents, we are pleased but gobsmacked, and actually quite disillusioned. Because we all but had to chain her to the table to revise. So she didn't do her best. She did what we dragged her kicking and screaming to do. And, if she can improve that much by that method, how much could she improve if she actually sat down, voluntarily, and revised and studied like a normal student is expected to do!

So she accused me of never being satisfied, and she has a point. Thing is, we only want her to do her best.. that's all. It's just that wasn't actually her best.

It is also a terrible indictment on the school she attends - that their second placed maths student in Year 9 is actually not that good. Because, no! she is not that good at maths! In many ways she can be quite dumb at maths! And dumb would be ok IF she tried her best, and that was the best she could give. But we still haven't seen her give it her best.

So as a parent, do you have a responsibility to keep chipping away, against the odds, to try to help your kids be all that they can be? To try things. To take school seriously. Even the sport opportunities. To venture outside their comfort zone. Or do you just throw up your hands, and let them do whatever they think they want, even if that is below par for what you think they are capable of.

Where do you draw the line? You might know in your heart (from your own experience) that academic achievement is not the be all and end all. That there is the risk of burning out by the end of Year 12.. and then what? (Exhibit A - me)

Talking with each other last night we admitted that both of us were 'hard markers'. He is definitely so - to the point where I avoid raising dealing with stuff that I need or want his advice on, because I don't want him to chuck a wobbly. But, while I am tending to total slackness in many areas, here I am being a hard taskmaster on my daughter.

I guess finding the middle road somewhere in there is the goal. I just wish I had a map and directions.

Labels: introspection, kids, parenting

Creamy ham, broccoli and mushroom pasta courtesy of my 12 year old, who picked out the recipe back when I made a resolution to have them starting to cook. Unlike the 14 year old who was dragged reluctantly into the kitchen when it was her turn (she chose fried rice, but had to have me hovering over her and doing a lot of it for her.)

Alison, however, was enthusiastic about the idea from the start, and has had that recipe earmarked for two weeks. I don't think that I've ever even made that one before either, so she was totally just following a recipe. (Which is pretty much the way I've got through my cooking life!)

So here we have one 12 year old who is streets ahead of her supposedly equally smart 2 yrs older sibling. She pretty much did the whole thing herself. Yes, she asked questions and advice, but I basically sat here at the computer, and only had to jump up and help a couple of times. I was so chuffed.

I was also pretty impressed that she chose a recipe with broccoli in it! And mushrooms. She's not even fond of mushrooms, but decided that (as her Dad and I have always said, they add flavour when cooked with other ingredients.) She used her chef's perogative to not put in as many as the recipe said, and I assured her that that was totally acceptable.

Ms 14 sat there and picked out the broccoli and mushroom. (Given she's still unwell with a sore throat I ignored it this time, but sheesh!)

I suppose you can't make kids be enthusiastic about cooking, but I'm already slightly peturbed that Ms Eldest here will be 20 something and incapable of making herself a healthy meal!

I still need to work on the cleaning up bit afterwards.

"Darling, you have no idea how wonderful it was to have someone else cook diner."

"Yes I do, I get that every other night."

"Not quite the same thing kiddo. Talk to me when you make the meal every other night!"

Labels: cooking, kids

At last! The official end of the netball season, with the Presentation held today. And until about March next year I will have my Saturdays back, hip hip hooray and hallelujah!

I have two girls to be very proud of - one whose team won their grand final (in a boilover!), and the other whose team came runners up (and who got close to another boilover!). (Not that I'm not proud of my youngest - she just didn't play competition netball this year, and so wasn't involved in the presentation today.) Ali received the Most Valuable Player award for her rep team from her performance at State Age, and Caitlin received the Players' Player award for her Intermediate team. Which makes this mum very proud and just a little bit teary! I know I do a fair bit of whingeing about my kids, but the truth is I really do appreciate what wonderful girls I have. Sure they have their moments, and I know I can be their harshest critic. The big secret is I'm actually also their biggest fan. I just try most of the time not to be one of those parents who babbles on ad nauseum about how wonderful their children are. Thankfully most of the rubbish happens at home, and I know that "out there" they are liked and appreciated for being great kids - Heck, I've even had a number of compliments about them recently!

And hence, I am proud.

Even more than them happening to be good at netball, I am really chuffed with their sportsmanship. They play "nice". They play fair. (Given that, during this week, I've been composing tearful blog posts in my head along the lines of 'Why Can't They Just Be Nice To Each Other?!!', I'm very relieved that the Not-Niceness that tends to rear its ugly head most often among siblings seems to stay within the home; somewhere along the line we've done something right. They've been 'brung' up to be good sports, and out "there" at least they are good sports.)

This sportsmanship thing has been highlighted even more recently at the netball by the behaviour of one girl in particular. Ali has, this year both played with, and against her. At state age a number of we parents were embarrassed that our daughters were on the same team as her. At club level, particularly when our kids' team overcame the odds and beat this other girl's team (for the first time in the season) in the Grand Final, we held her up as an example of how not to play (and lose your rag.) Her parents don't fully realise what a monster they have, in part, created (because she has been allowed to develop into one).. It has tainted what would have otherwise been a totally brilliant year for the netball association, and because this kid is the daughter of the president, it has been one more issue I have with staying on the netball committee...

It is the AGM next week, and apart from having to get my act together with the minutes, I'll have to sort out the mess of correspondence etc because I intend to hand over the secretarial reins. I figure I'll still handle the website that I do, and any other computer-y stuff. People keep telling me I'm the computer whiz, and thank goodness they have me to do all that stuff. (I just wish I could figure out how to get paid for this supposed expertise!!) I'm just more than over meetings, and letter writing. And getting stuck in the clubhouse canteen week after week. Mostly that last one - which is why I'm doing such a happy dance about getting my Saturdays back.

Theoretically speaking today I had, at least, Saturday morning free. Free to go bike riding without having to hurry home; I mean, even though Marc is away, I have a single road bike, and I am quite capable of getting my bike on the roof of the car, and driving myself into town to the Community Ride. But I blew it. I had my bike ready to go, and cycling clobber laid out and ready. I got up at 5 am. I looked out the window, saw that while it wasn't raining, it was windy. ("Aww, diddums!"). And my back was sore, and I couldn't face trying to lift the bike onto the roof rack, never mind riding into the wind. So I got back into bed, and got up again at 10am!!! I then felt disappointed in myself the rest of the day for not pushing myself through my mental barrier. If Marc had been home I would have shamed myself into it, and then felt good about myself.

Next Saturday he will be away again, so I will try to redeem myself. Another chiro visit will be in order to try and sort out my back, and then all I'll have to do is work on my head!

Labels: kids, netball, parenting