Tag Archives: bad parenting

A bit of a rant but is it really just me who feels this way?

Dear Emma,

Well, we’re crashing towards Christmas and it’s all set to be the season of discontent round here. I mean let’s face it, this month is the ultimate test of your parenting abilities or lack thereof.

And who the hell invented Christingle anyway, which in this family starts with the children pilfering any spare change before fighting over the candle and is followed by setting light to the kid in front’s hair with the flame before a quick trip to casualty after one of them has poked the other in the eye with the cocktail stick. And whoever thought playing “orange” bowling whilst waiting in A&E was going to be a good idea. What Christian message can I possibly extract from all that?untitled (42)

But that was last year and this month I surpassed myself by forgetting the service altogether and then collaborating with my beloved and coming up with an excessively elaborate lie about why we hadn’t taken them to the service.  You know when you’re pretend crying and faking a candle wax allergy, you may have taken things too far!

And then this week there’s:

  •  The first of the nativity plays (cue my child being the only child with, dare I admit it, a grubby tea towel on his head amidst the other bespoke nativity costumes but at least I didn’t, like previous years, induce a febrile convulsion in my child by over heating them in a sheep costume. And yes I say “first of the nativity plays” because I’ve got a total of 4 performances to sit through which is more than any parent should have to endure).
  • Christmas hat day (am I really going to be judged on my ability to read the school newsletter and digest this gem of a pain in the arse activity).
  • The school disco (oh that’s only 6 trips to the school in one day then as all my children have different disco slots and don’t get me started on the clothes).
  • The “take a home made decoration to school day” (why can’t they make that in school – I’m beginning to get hysterical!).
  • The make a Boomerang and a Didgeridoo day. Just don’t ask.
  • School open day (a complete cop out on the school’s part, when any self respecting parent is made to smile desperately at 22 meaningless school books and wonder why they can’t just give us an end of term report instead – that’s 45 minutes of my life I’ll never get back!)

December 2010 051

And how is it that, with only 10 days left of this long and agonising term, I’ve only just realised that my daughter doesn’t have any shoes, school socks or shirts and that my middle son has been wearing his sisters trousers to school for the last 10 weeks!

And they call this the season of good will and wonder why most mothers secretly slip into a gin bottle at the first reasonable opportunity. Bring back Scrooge – all is forgiven! Surely next week will be easier?

Never mix wine with school events.

Dear Emma,

I can’t believe we’re hurtling towards the Autumn holidays already and I’m not sure about the children but I’ve certainly learnt a lot this term. For instance, I’ve learnt that you should never turn up to the school quiz night a bottle of white wine the worse for wear. Let me tell you neither gushing over the headmistress and telling her how much you love her, nor correcting the quiz master on his poor use of grammar and punctuation are likely to be well received.school quizz night

And in a similar vein, I also learnt that telling your daughter to tell her teacher that I don’t care if her handwriting is bad because she’s going to be a doctor is unlikely to make you popular in the staff room and confessing to the school secretary that the reason you missed parent consultations again, was that your school filing system amounts to nothing more sophisticated than the foot well of your car, never goes down well.

school holidaysI also learnt that when giving a speech to the local Speakers Club you need to be careful when describing your husband as a porn king and finally I learnt that as the holidays approach, you should always be mindful of the fact that your husband has fitted the roof box and never, ever under estimate the size of your when negotiating a small car park unless you are entirely happy about lieing to your husband about the resulting damage.

But on a lighter note, the said offending husband has kindly chosen the week that the cat got fleas and that we leave on holiday, to strip out the utility room, re- decorate the kitchen and fix the washing machine. bad parenting The result is I have several industrial sized piles of washing, water spraying everywhere, a Bulgarian stranger called Boris camped out in the kitchen in fear of the dog and a sitting room piled from floor to ceiling with miscellaneous kitchen and utility items that I hoped to never see again.  Is it unreasonable to be cross about having to step across a chain saw, punch bag and set of golf clubs in order to mop up the flood and feed the children? We leave for France tomorrow and I may not come back.