Wednesday, 9 March 2016

A turn up

Awful freelance lunch goes rogue with an excess of doughy joy:

(There was a 20% off sale in Marks and Spencer and I am powerless in the face of reduced carbohydrates. I haven't eaten it all. Yet. )

Related discussion: 

E: I just want to lie on a giant Hot Cross Bun.

M: Oui. And then for someone to close the warm, fruity lid over you. Like a nice spicy duvet.

Morning joy:

I am so happy for Attila the Bun Binky Master Jazz Paws (discovered by great friend B, fount of all things animal).

Afternoon joy:

I dropped into the lair of my current administrative nemesis on the offchance this afternoon with no great hope of progressing my administrative fuck up and emerged approx 3 minutes later with the missing piece of paper. This constitutes such a profound rip in the Belgian space-time-probability continuum that I fully expect to be sucked into a black hole in the next hour or so, but I am enjoying this wholly unprecedented feeling to the full. THIS NEVER HAPPENS.

Near-future joy:

Because we are all profoundly institutionalised, like very compliant residents of sheltered accommodation, Wednesday night has sacred status in our house as FISHFINGER AND FRITE NIGHT. Fishfingers from the freezer, courtesy of Capitaine Igloo (the French/Belgian Captain Birds Eye, why he can't be Capitaine Oeil d'Oiseau eludes me) and frites from the friterie round the corner whose frites are ethereally crispy and beef dripping scented, as a frite should be. Hurrah for the frites. This looks like I am trying to fiddle with my SEO through frites which would probably be highly effective in Belgium. Also I have last night's episode of Happy Valley recorded to watch.

Parental confession:

Wednesday is violin day (not my idea, we have a perfectly good piano upstairs and it doesn't make a noise like a flock of peacocks being tortured however bad at it you are)  The kid who has the lesson before my self-tiger parented son is the size of a chihuahua, barely out of nappies and horribly advanced and I do not like it. I mean, she will probably burn out before she is ten, I suppose, or lead the troubled life of the virtuoso and I am very proud of my son for choosing to play such an initially thankless instrument which will pay such dividends later if he persists, but nevertheless.

Second parental confession:

I said I'd go to some daft meeting about 3rd year options on Thursday evening and I am already planning how to weasel out of it, because, Jesus, I've read the handout surely that is sufficient, child knows what it wants to do and I can see no reason to oppose him. This is however a terrible example to the child in question who is not burdened with over-enthusiasm for collective activities of any kind (other than collective online virtual killing) as it is (hashtag genetics).

Third parental confession:

I am already sick of "supervising" revision and there are still two more sets of exams after this one before the school year staggers to a close. I am sure my parents did not do anything like as much of this coercive revision, though saying that a memory has just returned unbidden of my father forcing me to read The Economist then calling me on Sundays and making me relate and analyse an article to him, god. Doubtless it would be better for all concerned if I left them to it, but apparently I am too much of a controlling harpy, which is a sad and surprising discovery when you think you are all groovy, relaxed parent. Ah well, I am already reaching the limits of my abilities in most subjects, so soon all I will be able to do is stand on the sidelines barking crossly about how this wasn't how you did it in my day and I am sure that will be a significant improvement.


40% Devoid of ideas
30% Hopelessly in love with the little owls
15% Considering chicken agility
15% Gin longing



Emma Woodley said...

Thank you for bringing Atilla the Bun Binky Master Jazz Paws to my attention. That is a level of pet naming that I didn't know I could aspire to.

Anonymous said...

ha ha - at first (due to advancing age and permanent mental stupor) i understood your forthcoming supper treat to be "fish finger and fright night" and was pondering your great imagination and energy to come up with different spooky evening entertainments once a week...

krispy frites sound MUCH more relaxing to conjure up ...

Anonymous said...

10% should have washed my hair a couple of hours ago in the shower. All that stuff about not washing every day does not apply in my case. Why do I never learn?
50% feeling constricted in my clothing due to sudden weight gain over the past few months brought on by two many carbs of the sort featured in your photo. Delicious at the time and great comfort food. It has been a very tough few months so I suppose I should forgive myself and start walking it off or something. Not very inclined, though.
20% feeling guilty at having neglected my harpy homework and study supervision practices for the past couple of months due to sheer exhaustion and trying to keep it together on so many other fronts. This has resulted in a string of poor grades and my kid having to do a marathon race against the clock to finish reading a book and compiling a 200-word glossary of vocabulary with definitions and examples of how each word should be used. So tedious but required for end-of-year grade. I figure she may have learned something about time management from the experience so it's probably OK. Anyway, I should have to supervise things so closely. Do you see how I'm making excuses for myself all the time?
20% hoping against hope that we have already touched rock-bottom and that the curve will now start pointing upwards so that life can slowly return to normal, or as close to normal as possible.

anapestic said...

60% too much work
50% even more work
-10% good humor

Do hot cross buns not have to be hot?

Crazy Mom! said...

Hey - did you get your copy of Cold Comfort Farm yet?

70% jazzed about new boyfriend
20% overworked
10% peckish

Waffle said...

anapestic - of course! you must split him, toast him, then coat him liberally in butter with salt crystals.

crazy mom - I HAVE IT. Have not started yet, waiting for a really shit day. New boyfriend! Yay! x

Dydo.W said...

Don't worry about supervising revision. I have found that win or lose, pass or fail, happy or sad, they'll find a way to blame you for everything anyway! The mother is the perfect one to hold accountable, so just do what makes you happy and when they point the finger at you and declare it to be YOUR fault, throw your head back and laugh like an opera singer!
Works for me (but only in the privacy of my bathroom, when the accuser has left the building).

Anonymous said...

Dydo.W, thank you for making me smile.
I have half a mind to try this out and see if it makes things a little easier to manage.
The expectation that parents should constantly supervise homework and revision is unreasonable. I know it's unreasonable, I know that my kid should step up and take responsibility for schoolwork by herself. By and large, I do let her get on with it and she's mostly up to date with things. Actually, she would probably manage fine without my intervention, maybe slightly lower grades and a bit more sloppy presentation but by and large, she would be fine.
I think mothers in particular need to be reminded to do things they enjoy, for the sheer pleasure of doing something for themselves instead of running themselves ragged doing and being for others all the time. This definitely applies to me. The other day while waiting for an extracurricular activity to end, instead of doing some useful grocery shopping, I took myself to a café with a book, ordered a pot of Earl Grey and a homemade upside-down apple cake and just sat there reading and having a cup of tea with cake (like a normal person might do much more regularly). I hadn't sat down like that to relax and just "be" in months. I'll be repeating it this evening and every other evening while waiting for my kid to finish her activity, groceries be damned.
If anyone is interested, I'm reading The Last of the Vostyachs ( by Diego Marani, having hugely enjoyed New Finnish Grammar by the same author a couple of years ago. I have also got his new one lined up, The Interpreter.
An hour spent reading is so restorative, something I had somehow forgotten and will try to remember from now on

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