Every Friday, without fail, the 7 yr old skips out of school, with an eager face asking – “can we go to the roller-disco tonight, pleeeeeeeaaaassseee?”. It’s a blessing and a curse that our local leisure centre fling open their doors every Friday night for a weekly rave on wheels – super that kids have a great place to expend that end-of-week excess energy but a bloody nightmare for any adult tasked with accompanying them; leaving me with the resounding feeling I must have done something wrong in a former life!
Why?I hear you say, would an event where the kids get to roll around like the cast of starlight express on a methamphetamine induced high, burning energy, getting excerise all whilst socialising with their peers, be a bad thing?! Ha, the people asking that question have clearly never experienced a village leisure centre roller-disco as an adult – so let me take you on a sensory journey, my roller-disco hell which I experience every Friday night…
It goes without saying that for the start of 2016 I’ve made the obligatory promises to myself, that I’ll struggle to keep past the 10th of Jan (in fact I haven’t actually started them yet): drink more water (any would be a great start), double cleanse before bed (a single cleanse would be a major achievement), watch my spending, get organised… blah blah blah, but these are all relatively selfish resolutions. The one I’m hell bent on keeping is – stop shouting at the kids so much, or at least shout at them for the right reasons.
Maybe it’s because I’m a mum of boys, or maybe I just have a soft spot for floppy hair – either way, I couldn’t have been prouder when 1-D came third on X-Factor 2009, propelling them on a meteoric, sex (and allegedly drug) fuelled roller coaster of international success. Little did the bright-eyed Harry Styles know as he whispered into the winner, Matt Cardle’s ear: “Think how much pussy you’re gonna get!” – that he would, in fact, be on the receiving end of quite a bit of the feline synonym mentioned. But 1-D, despite my years of loyal motherly love (even as your tattoo count entered triple figures and you actually got facial hair!), you’ve disappointed me in the past few weeks; as much as I am a die-hard fan of your free-spirited boyish behaviour, I am also a real girly-girl – willing to stand-up for womanhood and all its fabness at the drop of a tampon!
Ok, be warned this might get a little bit sweary!
When did modern day kids become so fucking useless? I mean this in a very loving, motherly way – as in, why the hell can’t kids seem to do anything for themselves anymore? I don’t want to set my little birds free from the nest, when they one day head off into the big wide world (the day will come right?), for them to trip over the first man-hole cover in the drive because they didn’t think to look where they were going.
My little rant observation, comes after a Saturday during which…