This weekend, I was meant to be in Birmingham having Gluhwein in keepsake Christmassy mugs, and eating reindeer and Lebkuchen. Looking at the twinkly lights, and maybe buying a carved chess set (although, I may have conflated my Poland with my Germany there). I am not. I am at home. Cos DS has his annual very poorliness.
Bless him, he is only ill so rarely. He deserves patience and care. So, I am cross with myself that I am even slightly annoyed that we are not travelling. Still, I am planning him a special birthday cake or next week. He has had a big week of achievement and social care (having gone out of his way to help someone else yesterday,as well as his big week at school) He is currently bundled up on the sofa having cried from the minute he left school yesterday, until the moment he sat next to me on the sofa when he got in, cuddled up and fell asleep.
He is mending, we are lucky, we have excellent immune systems. He’ll be back in school Monday, to wear his Christmas Jumper, which we have sent his father out to buy, since, his father has a very compromised immune system. So, we just make it through the weekend, and taadaa, back to normal.
It is somewhat hopeless, and selfish, that this missing of one stupid day out (at cost of £20 to cancel the train tickets) has tumbled everything through my mind.
I think, what happens is that people like drama. People wanted to be around when my life was full of drama, and emergency. Now, I have really no drama, just usual issues, and there are no people. Because, usual, hospitalised family members, single parent, unwell childs other parent issues, are boring. And, being both boring AND a not very nice person, oh, AND being someone who can be criticised for being a particular, derogatory label for a type of parent JUST for not being part of any network, and not being used to asking anything.
I have learnt that. Charles Kingsley was wrong. I bought in to him. I believed it. But it is not the case. And, as a result, I have taught my children wrongly.
I no longer know what to teach them. Maybe I just teach them cynicism. House style “everyone lies” – even me. I taught you one thing, but you will NEVER see me taking my own advice. Because I want your life to be better. But, for myself, I can’t cope any more with knowing that what I need doesn’t exist. So, I can only be a hypocrite.
And, It’s not good enough for my children. I want to teach them to be sociable, have friends, go out, have fun, have a fun, connected and enjoyable life. I can’t. Because, the only people I know are only interested in drama, in having done a *good* thing. Because I am not a nice enough person to be anyone’s *friend* or to have celebrations which are shared.
And, if I am not, then, it is not in me to teach how to be.
So, what happens when they have NO other parent, and can’t learn? Then I just let them down. More.