And so... Again I have neglected my blog. Not intentionally, not purposfully, not anyting otherly than I have managed my time badly. As well as my children's time. With nothing but a biro and any bit of paper that looked blank lurking amongst the detritus of my handbag to record snipets on. Since my birthday I no longer have that excuse as the husband to be generously gave me a net book as a present. So now, I can complain right then and there on the spot, not just write stuff down, rip it up and put it in the bin, the place where in all honesty, they probably deserve to be.
So, my latest musings are thus. Children and torture, very, very, VERY much the same. If you think about torture, the act of inflicting severe physical or mental pain on a person, and compare it to bringing children up, you will notice that at almost every point of these two exercises, there are comparisons to be drawn. For instance, Japanese water torture, this is similar to the repetition of the word "why"that one might hear in a day, or "Mummy" or "daddy" or "I want" or screaming and crying etc. In fact, I would wager, the degree and length of children's excessive, relentless repetition of mundane irritating noise, is far worse than the soothing, cooling almost therapeutic, by comparison, drip, drip, drip of water. Being beaten to within an inch of your life is possibly a holiday compared to the CONSTANT, everyday for the next eon, clambering and scrabbling that one endures throughout the day before your children are in bed. At least when you are beaten, you know that there are 2 ways out, death or freedom. With children there is no hope or respite, just when you think that you have a moment or you've finally got them to realise that you are not a climbing frame, they are back on you like a shark on a bleeding seal. Trying to keep your cool and maintain a good and level head so that you don't mess your children up, I'm sure is very similar to keeping a clear and level head when being questioned (as a spy) having been captured by the "other" side! Your life, rather like a captive, is no longer your own, sacrifice, saving, generosity, anything that you care to throw at the situation, literally means nothing, they're still going to do what they want and how they want to do it, in fairness, it is totally out of your hands. You just have to wait until they have grown up and pray that they don't hate you and that you've done enough to make sure that they move on to bigger and better things.
Have you ever wondered why you, as a parent, are so tired all the time? The answer is most probably this. When you leave anything container like, i.e house, car, play centre nursery, school etc, you are immediately in flight or fight mode. Every single sense about your being is on red alert to maximum capacity. Who's going to snatch them? Which one of them will get run over? How do I stop this tantrum from irritating everyone in the world? Why is pink not acceptable now when six seconds ago you couldn't get enough of it? This is a state that you hardly ever break free from, hence the ridiculous tiredness, and this alone is enough to drive you mad. This is like the sleep deprivation torture that is a form of torture. This we experience quite gladly as parents with a new born only when in a "torturous" capacity, you are allowed to go mad/expected to go mad, as a parent you are scowled and frowned upon as "the one who can't handle it all". The difference here is, you don't really realise that this is what's happening to you, you rationalise it and it becomes normal. You press the urges to spit blood and tear your hair out, because, what would people think?
Disciplining children is like being kept in a cell. You know there is nothing you can do to break free from it, all you can do is the time and then hope for the best at the end of it.You, rather like a prisoner in a cell, have little to no control over the eventual outcome. Will you be set free, will your children be something other than ghastly parasites, or will something happen that is out of your control, meaning that you'll be sentenced to life, will your children never leave home and simply be hideous blood sucking leaches? That is ones sentence. So, in true "Life of Brian" style, when someone says to you "childcare?" I would simply answer "oh no, Crucifixion please!"
Today, I could go on with this negative diatribe. I don't need or want children today, I want my freedom. I no longer want to be driven mad and taken to the very edge of my physical and mental capability. I want a holiday with booze and no guilt, with sun and lie ins and no incessant drivel from people who have no idea what they are saying, let alone the fact that the audience is only half listening. Give me alone, lonely, loneliness. Give me deathly quiet and horrible eary tranquility. Give me a desert island with no one else on it, and I swear, I will take that, run a mile and not once complain that this was torture. After all, surely one mans torture is another mans paradise?
So, my latest musings are thus. Children and torture, very, very, VERY much the same. If you think about torture, the act of inflicting severe physical or mental pain on a person, and compare it to bringing children up, you will notice that at almost every point of these two exercises, there are comparisons to be drawn. For instance, Japanese water torture, this is similar to the repetition of the word "why"that one might hear in a day, or "Mummy" or "daddy" or "I want" or screaming and crying etc. In fact, I would wager, the degree and length of children's excessive, relentless repetition of mundane irritating noise, is far worse than the soothing, cooling almost therapeutic, by comparison, drip, drip, drip of water. Being beaten to within an inch of your life is possibly a holiday compared to the CONSTANT, everyday for the next eon, clambering and scrabbling that one endures throughout the day before your children are in bed. At least when you are beaten, you know that there are 2 ways out, death or freedom. With children there is no hope or respite, just when you think that you have a moment or you've finally got them to realise that you are not a climbing frame, they are back on you like a shark on a bleeding seal. Trying to keep your cool and maintain a good and level head so that you don't mess your children up, I'm sure is very similar to keeping a clear and level head when being questioned (as a spy) having been captured by the "other" side! Your life, rather like a captive, is no longer your own, sacrifice, saving, generosity, anything that you care to throw at the situation, literally means nothing, they're still going to do what they want and how they want to do it, in fairness, it is totally out of your hands. You just have to wait until they have grown up and pray that they don't hate you and that you've done enough to make sure that they move on to bigger and better things.
Have you ever wondered why you, as a parent, are so tired all the time? The answer is most probably this. When you leave anything container like, i.e house, car, play centre nursery, school etc, you are immediately in flight or fight mode. Every single sense about your being is on red alert to maximum capacity. Who's going to snatch them? Which one of them will get run over? How do I stop this tantrum from irritating everyone in the world? Why is pink not acceptable now when six seconds ago you couldn't get enough of it? This is a state that you hardly ever break free from, hence the ridiculous tiredness, and this alone is enough to drive you mad. This is like the sleep deprivation torture that is a form of torture. This we experience quite gladly as parents with a new born only when in a "torturous" capacity, you are allowed to go mad/expected to go mad, as a parent you are scowled and frowned upon as "the one who can't handle it all". The difference here is, you don't really realise that this is what's happening to you, you rationalise it and it becomes normal. You press the urges to spit blood and tear your hair out, because, what would people think?
Disciplining children is like being kept in a cell. You know there is nothing you can do to break free from it, all you can do is the time and then hope for the best at the end of it.You, rather like a prisoner in a cell, have little to no control over the eventual outcome. Will you be set free, will your children be something other than ghastly parasites, or will something happen that is out of your control, meaning that you'll be sentenced to life, will your children never leave home and simply be hideous blood sucking leaches? That is ones sentence. So, in true "Life of Brian" style, when someone says to you "childcare?" I would simply answer "oh no, Crucifixion please!"
Today, I could go on with this negative diatribe. I don't need or want children today, I want my freedom. I no longer want to be driven mad and taken to the very edge of my physical and mental capability. I want a holiday with booze and no guilt, with sun and lie ins and no incessant drivel from people who have no idea what they are saying, let alone the fact that the audience is only half listening. Give me alone, lonely, loneliness. Give me deathly quiet and horrible eary tranquility. Give me a desert island with no one else on it, and I swear, I will take that, run a mile and not once complain that this was torture. After all, surely one mans torture is another mans paradise?
