Smells like pre-teen spirit

Love, sorrow and getting your groove on… in retrospect it was the best way to handle a slew of bad days. If only it was me teaching the boy that and not him teaching me, then it would be perfect parenting.

Love…

It all began when he decided one morning to rush out of the house forgetting his bag and various other items that were needed for the day. This was the fault of a girl. Apparently cute and sweet and ‘just the most beautiful girl in the world’. The boy was utterly besotted.

‘Mum, I’ve gotta go… she’s just walked past..’ I caught the words while stabbing myself in the eye with the eyeliner and yelled ‘BYE! Have a great…oh you’re gone.’

On my way to the school to drop off his forgotten bag and other essentials I figured I’d have to get used to this one. The boy is nothing if not enthusiastic and just like his father, things are generally not done in half measures.

The next day was much the same except come the evening, we had a new conversation.

‘So how was your day?’ I ask

‘Rubbish,’ came the reply, ‘She dumped me.’

OH. Not good.

‘Never mind, I’m sure there will be someone else soon enough.’ I say sounding horridly motherish.

‘I don’t CARE.’ he says ‘it’s not about her dumping me, she dumped me for a total NERD!’

OH. Not good. Nothing to say to that.

Sorrow…

A couple of days later and all was forgotten as plans were made to go to the friends house for a sleepover which involved going to a skate park before hand. All was well as he went off and I decided to take the nice quiet time to catch up on stuff. However as I walked past his room my nostrils were assaulted by the unmistakable aroma of boys room, mixed with hamster.

I took the hamster out of his room, tidied up and then went to clean it out when I noticed the nibbles I put there the day before hadn’t been eaten. During the night, the boy’s pet had quietly passed away. Not my best moment.

OH. Really not good at all.

Well I broke the news to him on his return and about 15 mins after the initial reaction of ‘Oh well, that’s life’ a sobbing boy came and asked for a hug. He was pretty miserable for the rest of that day which was understandable.

Getting your groove on…

This morning he woke up and announced that oh-by-the-way he has an audition at school today and he’s going to dance. Right then. Go team!

This evening he announced that he nailed it. I asked him what he’d done exactly so he said he’d rather show me.

Suited up with a hat, white socks and the black shoes, my boy busted some serious moves Michael Jackson style complete with a very convincing moonwalk. He informs me that when he did the routine at school, he got loud applause and was surprised when a whole bunch of girls wanted to talk to him afterwards.

‘They’re stupid Mum, all they do is giggle. It’s, like, SO annoying’

Yeah, totally.

So much for the bruised ego and the broken heart… because as all boys know, nothing sorts out girl trouble faster than hanging out with mates, skating, and showing off your stuff to the adoring groupies.

No you can’t go to Hogwarts

Really though how can you possibly compete with a school where you learn to fly, blow things up and work with mythical creatures and plants that high pitched crying could knock you out… where nerdy, socially awkward book worms are cool and the strutting rich kids are the baddies… hmmm I think I could’ve done well at Hogwarts myself.

So first day back at school. Little Fella has already come home claiming he is actually the coolest kid in year 6 (no confidence issues there) and I can only assume the topic of conversation the entire day was ‘what high school are you going to?’ (since we have yet to receive a letter from Hogwarts, we have been looking at the muggle schools in the area). I can also only assume that Little Fella was ever so slightly put out about not having an answer so this became the topic of the evening at home. I told him the school I was thinking of sending him to and was confident he would be happy with it as I have been doing a fair bit of research over the past few months. To his credit, his face remained the same, but the body language of the boy flopping onto the couch slightly deflated was a clue that this may not have been what he had in mind.

The fact is that between the good schools, the expensive schools and the snobby schools, I hadn’t actually considered the newest and most important criteria which is something along the lines of ‘please don’t send me there, Mom, I would rather die’ (followed by ‘seriously Mom, I am SO not joking’)… Considering that in my mind I had his high school all picked out and Oh-My-Gosh it is the most uncool school around, that was a bit of a blow to plan A.

Oh man, where did I leave my wand.. hmm plan B not looking so hot either…

Without missing a beat, I skipped straight to Plan C which had that very moment been conceived. I simply sent the little man off to do the washing up (a stroke of brilliance by the way – I salute the people who came up with the concept of chores), and Googled my little heart out for high schools in the immediate area.

By the time he returned to ask me which high schools I was in fact looking at, I had managed to find a couple that were not only looking good academically (with exceptionally awesome looking uniforms by the way) but also with hugh focus on the performing arts which he very interested in.

SOLD! To the 10 year old with the stars in his eyes. I am once again the coolest mom.. in the world.

The month of Birthdays – Big Daddy and Little Fella go large

It all started with a plan to make this month of birthdays special. My August birthday season starts with my mum (technically July, but right at the end, so it’s included in my summer festive season :p. I had a lovely day planned out for my mum including a proper high tea somewhere nice. It was not to be however as I was struck down by the dreaded swine flu. What a nasty little flu that is. Needless to say all is well, and my boys haven’t contracted it even though they spent the week looking after me (there is nothing quite so comforting as your son making you tea while your husband scurries around in the kitchen positively bemused by all the shiny things in there…). So mum, if you are reading this – I owe you a proper English high tea.

So the next birthday to come along is Little Fella’s. Now this had to be special as he was hitting the big one-oh! 10 years our boy has been with us! I don’t feel old enough to have a 10 year old son. So what to do, what to do. After I had been deliberating for so long what to do, he finally decides that he wants to go to Chessington World of Adventures. Brilliant! We took along his best buddy and despite my screaming like a little girl on roller-coasters that clearly 10 year old boys can handle (laughing and waving their hands in the air), it was an awesome day and I would do it again for the joy it brought him. A declaration of ‘the best day in my life’ made the day perfect.

Moving on to Big Daddy’s birthday a week later, there were a couple of plans in place. On the Thursday I took the boys to dinner. I had a lovely place booked in Wimbledon Village and for some reason we just couldn’t find it. Now for anyone who knows Wimbledon Village, it’s is spectacularly difficult to loose a shop or restaurant there as it really isn’t big enough. However I was convinced that this restaurant was mimicking the secret house in Harry Potter (you know, Sirius Black’s house which Harry inherits that kinda just hides between the other buildings…) and we decided to go elsewhere instead. I’m glad because we ended up a beautiful Chinese restaurant and I would so go there again.

Continuing on the birthday of the Big Daddy, Friday was the braai at Perception HQ for family, friends, colleagues and clients. Saturday was the August Babies party (a combined birthday party for friends who all have birthdays in August). Both evenings were awesome in different ways and by Sunday, well suffice it to say it was a lazy day.

So now we move our focus to the holiday. We leave next week to go on our first family camping trip since living in Cape Town. I for one cannot wait to get out of London for a bit. I’m simply pooped.