Written, but not posted, at the start of September:
Whirling Dervish is back after a week away with her Mum and Stepdad, full of adventures and tales from a week in the big smoke. It has been lovely to see her and hear her own particular way of recounting stories.
And so the school holidays are done after Husband having Whirling Dervish pretty much every day so I won’t be coming home from work to dragon castles and time machines, very disappointing.
Trying VERY hard to encourage Whirling Dervish to look forward to school, which she is dreading as she will have homework every night and it has just come out that at home she is told to go off and do it on her own. Grrrrrr. So, without saying (just thinking it VERY loud) that I think that’s ridiculous, I have just mentioned we are happy to help her with it when she comes to us (most early evenings).
I have no real idea how this will turn out.
Sometimes it will be an outlet for my complete bafflement and awkwardness as to how I should behave and feel, and some guilt that it could be ‘wrong’.
Sometimes it will be happy and, if I have any skill in re-telling accurately, funny.
Sometimes it will be sad.
Sometimes it will be a vent for my internal screams of “YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG” as to how Whirling Dervish is parented.
More than sometimes it will be unreasonable and inappropriate.
It will be contradictory.
It WILL be all about me, which is kind of the point, one of my reason for not wanting children of my own is my unapologetic selfishness.