Friday, 8 February 2013

under pressure

My baby has started high school. Grade 7. Blimey. It makes me feel old. I mean I remember high school so well. It doesn't seem like it was that long ago. I had fun at school, that's what school was for, right?.  Learning?  Pfft.  After I hit 13 that aspect of school life took a back seat.  But that was me. I don't want my son to be like me.  I want him to go to school to learn and do well and succeed in life.  I don't want him to live a mediocre life of wishing he'd worked harder.  I want him to find things easy, not to have to try too hard, that combination of popular, passionate, hard working, interesting and motivated. Basically I want my son to be perfect. Poor baby. I put too much pressure on him, I know I do.  Last night, after a rant, I blurted out, "It's because I love you, because I care. I want the best for you!" But I know I'm going about it all the wrong way.  He didn't deserve the ear bashing, it was me feeling the pressure and just trying to 'encourage' him, but it all came out wrong, and I had to walk away and go and write in my diary to calm down. 

God knows what my kids will remember about me, when they are all grown up. My parents just wanted me to be happy.  I want my kids to be rich and happy in all aspects of their lives, to travel the world and to do something worth while.

Sometimes I think I'm not cut out for this parenting lark. I should have just worked in a shoe shop and had cats...

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