Saturday, January 17, 2004

I had a charming conversation with my brother the other day. He told me that I was being unreasonable asking my parents to babysit once a week. He told me to 'think of the petrol costs'. He told me that I shouldn't really be going to a Kung Fu class so I didn't need them to come babysit. He finished off by telling me that I'm a bad mother and that I ignore my baby.

Of course when I write it out like that he seems so reasonable so let's look at the back story.

My parents love my little girl so much that I can't stop them coming round. All I did was to try and impose some order on their visits. If they're going to be in and out all the time they may as well be doing something useful.

It's true that I'm not really what most people think of as a 'Kung Fu Fighter' and I'm really not very good. However I try very hard and that's all my Sifu asks. The exercises that we do are exhausting and extremely painful but they are my one hope that I'll still be around when junior is having babies of her own. If I work really hard I might even be fit enough to help. My body is like one of those small manufacturing plants we used to have in this country before Thatcher got her hands on us - permanently on the edge of collapse. I'm doing what I can to stave of that collapse.

So my brother comes along and tells me that I'm being self indulgent and selfish by having plans beyond the age of 40. Of course his real problem is probably that both I and my Beloved both manage to have 'things to do' on a Tuesday and he doesn't. It's ironic both of us cooped up in the house with the baby 6 nights a week and the once night a week we do have something to do happens to be the same night.

We're really very bad parents. We haven't yet given up all hope of a conversation outside baby stuff.

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