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I had a chance to work today with child care sorted, but I was dizzy with tiredness and there was no way I was going to do anything productive. I now need child care just to recuperate from looking after my children. I will never work again. Lucky my job rarely calls for it.
So I mainly sat in a daze. But at one point had a bath in a daze.
And then it was time to look after the kids again. Why did no one tell me what a time consuming responsibility my sperm were capable of becoming. Imagine if they’d all become babies. That would be a challenge.
I stamp on the ones I produce now, just to be sure.
It is still a pleasure and an education to hang around with these two tiny idiots, who are basically humanity boiled down to its essence. They feel things so strongly, especially the four year old and it makes me a bit sad that we are eventually taught to control our happiness, sadness, anger and reaction to the slightest discomfort. Phoebe is pretty good with her annoying little brother, but he did something today that made her fly into a fury and she picked up a little table and went for him. He instinctively understood that for once that this was not a game and made a run for it with terror in his eyes. I suppose it was my job to stop it, but sometimes you can only learn by being hit with a table and she did manage to knock him over. She was in trouble for it - and distraught at being chastised - but how much trouble should you be in for acting as your instincts and emotions dictate? I think I should be punished for never hitting my son with a small table, regardless of how irritating he is.
I have made it a mission not to lose my temper with my kids and to treat them like mini hecklers who I can only defeat if I keep my cool. But they tested that resolve today.
But the honesty of the emotion is a beautiful thing. I took the dog for a walk in the evening and got stung by a nettle. It hurt a bit, but I didn’t even cry. If I’d been 4 (or even possible 14) I would definitely have cried at that stabbing and unfair Triffid-swipe, but at 52 it is like water off a duck’s cock. And as proud as I am of my self-control, I would prefer it of adults kept on acting like children, unable to shield their reaction to anything. The minute we can do it we become liars. Though to be fair, I think sometimes my daughter reacts in an over the top fashion just to test the boundaries of what she can get away with.
Gradually we get dulled to pain, but also to beauty and joy. I still contend that being 4 is the best of all times.
And another chance to purchase some of the surplus stock from our RHLSTP kickstarter. This stuff is not available to buy in shops or online.
All funds raised go towards fuelling the podcasts.
