I'm breaking my rule about never blogging after two glasses. By quite a lot. Feel free to go away again.
There is a post going around Facebook at the moment which is entitled 'When your Mummy says she is fat.'. I read about two sentences and then gave up. For all my kids' problems in the world, they will not learn about low-self-image from their mother. Fact.
However, they do learn a lot of shit from me. They are tired, over-excited and we are all slightly emotional after some wider family issues this week. This has led me at various points to refer to either of them as spoilt, selfish, horrible and nasty. My children don't really deserve any of that nastiness. If we were to look at it as a whole picture maybe we would see that their bordering on spoilt-selfish-horrible-nastiness could possibly be a reflection of my drunken-busy-boring-selfishness.
I even gave them a lecture on Jesus this afternoon. What was Christmas all about? We got as far as a baby, a King and a little bit of goodness. I leapt on the goodness to achieve my aim of trying to instil the fact that as a family we need to be dead nice to each other over the festive period.
I feel sorry for them though. Stu works from home and regardless of all my extra-curricular, chosen arrangements, I actually only go to work two days a week. I'm expecting more therefore from my summer-born Year 2 and Reception Year boys after their first term than I'm willing to provide from myself. An afternoon of Veuve drinking with a lovely, bigger family than ours has put things in persective somewhat. Christmas is about loving our nearest and dearest as hard as we possibly can, and being grateful for what we have been blessed with. Thank the Lord for alcohol though and as I was watching the 'Outnumbered' Christmas Special the other night, I was delighted to see the Mum reaching for the wine bottle and then being told off as it was only 11am. She put it back for a minute and then grabbed it again saying, "Oh, it's ok, it's Christmas."
Amen.
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