Monday, January 08, 2007

Am the worst Mother in the world

The children are not happy with me.

I took down the decorations and put out the tree last night.

According to Jack (4), I have broken Christmas. Lucy (20 months) keeps pointing at the places where balloons were hung from and going "aaaaloooon" with a pout on her face.

So I am the devil, the Grinch, Jack Skellington, Herod and the pied piper of Hamilton combined. I even feel guilty but I am vaguely aware there is nothing to feel guilty about. At least I don't think there is.....

Fabulous.

You know, I never even wanted kids. Prior to having them, I never even liked them. Now, of course I am completely converted. To the point where I put my foot in it with one of my husband's distant cousins last night by making some sort of statement like "when you have kids". This was to someone who has chosen not to have them. Och, I can feel my toes curling up under my feet.

When did I go from someone who was allergic to the little beasts to someone who presumes that everyone wants them?

I guess the answer is the first time I held Jack in my arms. He might have been a "want none, get one free" offer but he, his sister and his Father are the best things to ever happen to me.

Have kids and become a cliche for free. The thing is, I am actually happy about it. I mean, wouldn't it be more weird if I still could not understand people having kids even after having them myself.

On a related note, the ticket-getting process for Glastonbury has just got more complicated. Another obstacle between me and my former childless self.

I guess next year, I am going to find another approach to this decommissioning of Christmas business.

3 comments:

Violet said...

Has it been 12 days since Christmas already? Oh, no - that means we have to take down our flashing lights and shiny baubles! What will our daughter think!

fjl said...

There is no accusation like alloooon. You put a smile on my face ;-)

The Furtive Wangler said...

Our babies always said "loons", which I found amusing. My mum always calls them "blethers", but she is mad. Not much of a reaction to taking down all the Christmas stuff in Furtive Towers, perhaps because my wife did it all so fast!