Posts Tagged parenting

I’d never really fully appreciated why the Sun is associated with masculine qualities, but it was arrestingly brought home to me yesterday by my own 11-year-old Darling Sun (sic). We had previously been discussing what extra curriular activities he should sign up for (me being pushy and he reticent and totally resistant to the idea of actually taking an interest in something that I would have cut an arm off to have had the opportunity to do at school). The conversation meandered onto other topics:

DS: I just found out today that X* has a girlfriend,she’s called Y.
*(X now goes to a different school)

Me: Oh. Really?

DS (nodding sagely): Yes. It happens around this age apparently.

Me: Oh. Does that mean you have a girlfriend now?

DS (smirking slightly): Yes. Her name’s Z.

Me (wondering if this is the reason for reluctance re:clubs): Ah. So what’s Z into then?

DS (shrugging) : Dunno

Me: You must have got to know her a bit if she’s your girlfriend. What is she interested in?

DS: She’s interested in ME.

And that says it all really. The Sun is associated with masculinity because the world revolves around it, all else is eclipsed by its radiance, it is invincible, peerless and it shines out of its own proverbial. Yup, the Sun is definitely masculine.

DS had some of his chums around after school today to play. The Gang of Four travel as a loosely formed pack, (in the way that boys do), whether it’s in the playground, scootering home from school or deciding on the lastest thing to be “into”.

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I have just returned from shoving No.1 fledgling out of the nest for his first solo flight away from home….for a week…..overseas!

Now I sit here munching on my second well-buttered Cinnamon and Raisin Bagel and drinking my Cappucino, feeling peculiar, trying to quell the strange, squirming, panicky feeling inside and wondering why they don’t warn you about this kind of thing when you have children. (more…)

So, we’re half way through the first week of the holidays already. Friday was the last day of school and I went first to collect DD, who hurried past me, head bowed. I caught up with her at the school gate and after a failed attempt at conversation, discovered that she was crying. The big, fat tears plopping onto her shoes gave her away. Between the sniffs and wails, it emerged that she missed her teacher already. We went back to say goodbye again, but she was utterly distraught.

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It seems I have a bit of a hothouse flower on my hands. While DD is as hard as nails most of the time, DS is a sensitive soul. She bounces off walls on her bike and merely whimpers slightly as she is disentangled from the wreckage, while for him the merest scratch becomes a major war wound to be examined, treated and closely monitored for weeks, then reminisced about for years after. That’s just the physical stuff though. He is getting more resilient in that respect as he gets older and now the sensitivity surfaces unexpectedly and from a deeper, more emotional corner.

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