I'm sure I've mentioned that I've been attempting to figure out what to do with the rest of my life for months now, and I've reached the point of wanting to slap myself around the face which is never good. I'm constantly treating Darcie to the "You could do much better if you just tried" lecture, with a few "you're never going to do anything with your life because it's all too much effort" accusations chucked in. We all know what our faults are, even if we don't often admit to them, and I hate seeing my faults reproduced in my children. Ultimately, I don't want Darcie to be where I am in 20 years, and I know it's very likely she will be. Nagging and pressurising are both good things to do, tormenting your kids is one of the fun bits of being a mum, but also children learn from examples. Darcie has reached the age where she knows what both Simon & I do to earn money; Simon explained to her a while ago that when she was a baby he got made redundant and eventually started working for himself, he's struggled for years and finally things have improved. I don't think Darcie understands why her dad doesn't go off somewhere to work, and we've had many screaming episodes because she wants him to be a boxer like her friend Ella-Mae's dad. I've attempted to subtly point out that not everyone wants to make a career out of punching people, but all she can see is that Ella-Mae's dad goes off to work, and that means he can drive around in a big car and buy his kids two mobile phones each. I can see how she's confused but I think she's finally understanding that Simon's job involves more than sitting at the computer, using Twitter and Facebook all day and once in a while making a cool picture! I want her to feel proud of her dad for doing something different, and I want her to be proud of me too. I remember being proud of my mum because she was a teacher (although having a teacher as a mum does suck when you're a kid, much harder to get away with stuff) she knew what she wanted to be right from being 4 or 5, went for it and achieved what she'd set out to do. Sometimes I think that Darcie would respect me more if I had a job or did something other than being a mum, I don't think for a second that she'd suddenly start liking me or anything crazy like that, but in some way it might make her a little bit proud.
Darcie knows that both Simon & I went to university, not that she really gets what that is, in her mind it's just a vague place that some adults go to. I would never tell her that in fact she was the main reason I didn't get my degree at the point I should have, because I don't ever intend to make her feel guilty about something that wasn't her fault at all. She honestly believes that these days all I do is run around tidying up, buying things for her and Harvey, entertaining them and ferrying them backwards and forwards to school. I've decided that now would be an excellent time for me to show both my children that my life does not in fact revolve completely around them, do something for myself, and make them proud of me. One day I said the infamous words "You're never going to do anything with your life because it's all too much effort" to my daughter, then with a gasp of horror realised that that I was speaking to myself as well.
Well-meaning people have said many times over the past few months "do a course, it'll motivate you, it'll give you confidence to try other things, it's better than sitting around thinking about what career you want; while you're deciding you can do something positive, it can't hurt...." and other motivational things. So, one day I ventured away from Facebook and found myself on the Open University website, carefully ignoring the sounds of my children spraying perfume at each other in their bedroom. I was immediately drawn to the Psychology courses, not something I even vaguely considered studying at uni but hell I was barely 18 back then and not the same person I am today. It sounds fascinating, might end up costing me £200 just for a short course, but I reckon it might just be worth it. I was pathetically proud of myself for making a half-decision, a baby step in what might possibly be the right direction, but now I'm swinging between being determined to go for it and maybe thinking it'll be a waste of time. The application deadline is in a couple of weeks I think, I have the relevant forms and they're lying accusingly on top of the microwave, the place forms often go and never return from. Logically I think well, what have I go to lose? (apart from 2oo quid obviously) I'm not doing anything else, why not do that? Then I start wondering where it'll lead, no point just doing a course and then......nothing. But it does sound good. Of course I'll end up racked with guilt for wasting cash which could be spent on the kids, for doing a course rather than spending time with the kids, for not just getting a crap job in Asda so I'd have more money for the kids........
I read a quote somewhere recently "a mum is always a working mum" which I think's very true, I say I don't have a job, but really I think I have the hardest one in the world. At the moment, I'm feeling like such a failure as a mother, at every twist and turn I get it wrong. I realised very early on that it's all a huge learning curve, and one of my mother's favourite sayings is "children don't come with instructions" true, but I reckon she's desperately attempting to excuse her own mistakes! The whole issue with Darcie isn't any better; Carole still comes over and in some small way I'm actually getting quite fond of the midget. Don't get me wrong, she's still infuriating and I still want to grab her, shake her, and throw her across the room (avoiding the TV because that would be hideously expensive to replace and without one I might have to entertain my kids) She's currently on leave so we haven't had the pleasure of her company for a while, but last time wasn't exactly a roaring success. Carole seems to have given up with the Theraplay stuff, although I have an awful feeling that the torturous games aren't gone for good. The most annoying thing is that whenever Carole's here, Darcie puts a huge "butter wouldn't melt in my mouth" act on, making eye contact with me constantly, chatting, and generally being fantastic. Carole accepts that one of the main issues we have is that Darcie struggles with change, she hates it when things are out of the ordinary (she normally has a bath/shower before bed, she's been known to lose the plot completely when we've made her have one mid-morning at weekends or holidays, that's just one of many examples) this is one of the major traits of Aspergers syndrome or Autism, and apparently visual timetables are the way forward. Darcie nodded along as Carole explained in great detail that she and I would work together to create some kind of board, with little pictures stuck on showing what she'd be doing each day. She agreed to plan it out with me every evening for the following day, e.g. a bed picture for getting up, followed by a breakfast picture, getting washed & dressed pictures, having a shower if necessary, watching TV, tidying up, etc. etc. Darcie said how much she'd like to use this visual timetable and how it would help her to understand that we wouldn't be going out as soon as she got dressed as this is a real issue at weekends. She was enthusiastic and promised Carole that before the next meeting she'd help me construct a timetable. Carole congratulated Darcie for being so mature and disappeared off, as predicted Darcie dropped the act and refused point blank to put any effort into the visual timetable. Simon made all the little pictures as I don't have an artistic bone in my body, but she still refused to plan it out with me or have any part in it. When we pointed this out to Carole, as always she said "so you don't want to do the visual timetable with Mum? OK then, whatever you like Darcie, Mum will do it all by herself then." I felt so annoyed as I'd really hoped it would work, in our opinion she needs structure and to know what time things are happening, etc. These things simply don't work unless she tries, and she just doesn't want to.
Darcie has always been extremely head strong, even as a baby, and we used to joke about it. However, what's amusing when you have a one-year-old isn't that amusing when that child is approaching ten. As I said, I firmly believe that motherhood is the hardest job in the world, and I realise part of my role is to run around after my kids, just as my mum ran around after me. What really niggles me though is that Darcie does nothing I say, she does nothing to help me out. She wants a drink, I have to make it and place it in front of her, she won't come and get it or even take it out of my hands most of the time as apparently I'm going to throw it all over her and pretend she did it. Over the Easter holidays I asked Darcie to help me tidy her bookshelf which is too small for all their books at the best of times, and had got so messy I couldn't ignore it any more. She spent two solid hours screaming rather than help me, I ended up doing it while she hurled abuse at me until I was almost in tears. I know no kid enjoys tidying up and will basically do anything to avoid it, but I remember gritting my teeth and getting on with it sometimes when my mum started turning red and making threats. There was simply nothing I could do to make Darcie tidy that bookshelf though, nothing on this earth would have made her. It's basically like having a giant spoiled baby most of the time, and I get so angry with myself because ultimately I can't make my kid do what I say.
I know people have it worse than me, in fact I know someone online who has two special needs sons who make her life living hell - one apparently recently smashed up the brand new trampoline she bought them, ripped all the wallpaper off his bedroom walls, and the two boys often start punching each other in public, damaging cars, etc. which must be incredibly tough. I'm fortunate in that just sometimes Darcie & I have nice times, but it's so rare. Over the Easter holidays I took the kids to Arundel Castle with my mum, and it was one of those days I'll always remember because it went well. Despite us missing our train (my mum's fault, well OK I could have been paying more attention I suppose) Darcie didn't freak out, and she really made me proud that day. I've only been to Arundel Castle once, when I was 6 or 7, and I was quite looking forward to it, despite worrying as always about Darcie being weird all day, plus panicking that Harvey wouldn't like it. After initially declaring it to be "the boring-est place on earth" my little boy had a great time, forcing me to clamber up millions of impossibly steep stairs and asking questions to which there are just no answers. In an act of unintentional bad mother-ness I'd allowed Darcie to wear her sandals (last years sandals, really must get her some more, putting it off as she has the most awkward shaped feet) which of course slipped and made her panic slightly about falling - I panicked too as I didn't fancy going home via A&E and then explaining to Simon why our daughter had come back with both arms in plaster. So Darcie and Granny wisely avoided the nastiest steps leaving me to tackle them with my son who had miraculously transformed into a robot soldier. Harvey adored the scenes set out in some rooms, showing how castle life used to be, and spent ages chatting to various models of soldiers and what looked suspiciously like a monk. My mum produced a crazy amount of food as always at lunchtime, which she'd carried around effortlessly all morning - the four of us found a bench in the vast grounds and scoffed. I couldn't get over how awesome the castle is, and how much history is contained within it. Harvey couldn't get over how the toilet doors were shaped like castle doors, I secretly thought it was pretty cool too. My mum thankfully supplied the kids with money for the dreaded gift shop, Harvey chose slime (he's addicted to it at the moment and can detect it up to five miles away) and a wooden sword - he promptly charged out of the shop, dived into the nearest flowerbed and began beheading the daffodils. I've perfected the art of carefully ignoring my kids in situations like this, and found myself patrolling around behind Darcie in the gift shop repeating "now, don't waste your money on tat, think carefully and chose a nice souvenir which you can treasure for years." I genuinely frighten myself at times like this, because I sound like a Proper Parent, of course it's just a game and I'm still sixteen inside.
We investigated the chapel, ignored the pointed looks of disapproval from the stuck-up bloke supervising - my kids have two volume settings which are "loud" and "louder", they simply don't do whispering. I did rapidly remove them though when they began sticking their fingers up the noses of the statues, leaving my mum to placate the infuriated bloke. It was one of those rare days when we just had fun, Darcie interacted with me and didn't even resemble the child who makes every day of my life impossible. We scuttled off for ice cream at a cafe (key lime pie ice cream, I'd go back just for that) and then walked back to the station, my mum even commented that Darcie and I were walking along chatting while she and Harvey trailed along behind, something which never normally happens. Usually either Darcie stalks off, leaving my mum chasing after her, or the two of them stick together while Harvey and I do our own thing. I know often my mum feels torn between her daughter and her granddaughter, and she said how pleasant it was that she didn't that day. The whole time though, I was expecting Darcie to turn on me, that was there at the back of my mind, combined with "why can't it always be like this?" I knew it would be a fleeting thing, and sure enough, the next day she screamed "I haven't said you can come in here!" the minute I approached her, but at least we had the day in Arundel. As I said, I know I'll always remember it, simply because Darcie and I enjoyed each others company and all the bad stuff was put on hold. I hope that one day in the distant future I'm the granny who takes her and her children there, and that she'll turn to me and say "I've got such happy memories of this place, I remember what a lovely day we had here."
Suddenly have so much more to say, but it's crazily late and I need to be up at 7 tomorrow morning. I'll be back soon.
