Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Let's (Not) Talk About Sex, Baby

IN those heady, hazy days of imagining what your own particular style of parenting might be - ie before actually having children - you might make promises to yourself. They might range from never shouting at or slapping your child, never letting them near an e-number, rationing TV to 15 minutes a day or never, ever buying them a Barbie.

Of course within thirty seconds of actually giving birth you realise parenting is basically a juggling act of panic, fear and tears. Oh, and then your mother buys the damn kid a Barbie anyway.

Friday, 25 November 2011

Mammogram's Are Made Of This...

This week I had my breasts examined and not the usual examination that sometimes occurs when having a conversation with a man. No.

I was examined under the NHS breast screening programme which, in my health region, has expanded the usual screening age range (generally 50 to 70) to start at 47-years-old right up 73. But, as it's a new initiative, it's an randomly selected "invite only" process until the system fully phases in.

And I was one of the chosen ones, OBVIOUSLY at the youngest end of the spectrum. Too young in fact because, ahem, I'm not actually 47 until Saturday.

Wednesday, 16 November 2011

Sweet Sixteen - The Birthday Party Saga Pt 2

The clock is ticking down to the Teen Twins 16th birthday..35 DAYS TO GO. And plans for THE PARTY have been firmed up, sorted out, sat down in the corner, given a bit of a talking to and generally been told to pull themselves together.


Apparently THE PARTY is DEFINITELY fancy dress. WITHOUT a theme because EVERY theme has already been DONE TO DEATH *expressive teenage shrug.* And you CAN NOT get in AT ALL unless you are in fancy dress and that means me and you and Grandma and EVERYBODY.

APART from the sixth former that may/ may not have been/ be/ might be/ will be maybe invited who is FAR too cool to dress up in fancy dress. He can wear what he wants OBVIOUSLY ......

And I'm not allowed to talk to him though heaven knows why. I'll probably think he is in fancy dress anyway: ("Aw, look at his trousers! He's come as an arse.") Oh.

And Teen Twin2 has ABSOLUTELY, UTTERLY, DEFINITELY decided what to wear. Three times. Teen Twin1 is wearing her own clothes, but more so. (The eyeliner manufacturers of England have been put on stand by).

AND as Teen Twin1's band is playing, why can't we have Teen Twin2's boyfriend's band TOO and "Do we get paid."
Er, NO.

Next time: Grandma tuts, grumbles, sighs and speaks of  buffet food. I hide in the cellar with gin.

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Playing The Game

THERE are not many pleasures in being a mother to teenagers and not just because there's always the possibility they might turn into binge-drinking, knicker-flashing, knife-carrying, crack-addicted student-protesters the minute you have a lapse in concentration.

Thankfully my teenagers have not yet graced the pages of the Daily Mail, but they are still teenagers .. opinionated, hormonal, argumentative, rebellious, angry and resentful by turn. Occasional flashes of wit, smiles and niceness are generally accompanied by a request for money or chocolate or the moon.

But you take your pleasures where you find them and the BEST thing about having teenagers is playing The Game of Embarrassment.

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

Teenage Kicks

I WASN'T exactly a wild child when I was young, maybe a little advanced for my age in the going to the pub and hanging around rock stars department...

Well, I say rock stars though living in Wakefield which was (and still is) just one level up from touring some sheds, I didn't get to hang around that many. Biff Byford signed my t-shirt and I sat on Ian Gillan's knee for an interesting 15 minutes backstage in Bradford, but otherwise my rock star adventures were pretty limited.

The drinking wasn't though - for I was young in the late 70s when hanging around the pub underage was positively de rigueur. Every time the police raided anywhere, a friendly copper would tip the landlord the wink and the pub would be rather less full by the time they made the raid.

It is, of course, positively wrong to condone underage drinking. I don't obviously, but when I was young it was perfectly all right with me. And the drinking apprenticeship on the legendary Westgate Run through my teens set me up for college -  where one unlucky predatory student tried to get me drunk during Freshers Week and had to be carried back to his room with only a hangover of epic proportions to look forward to.

Friday, 4 November 2011

Sweet Sixteen ... The Birthday Party Saga Pt 1

SO the Teen Twins are rapidly approaching their 16th birthday and approaching it with a desire to throw the biggest, bestest 16th birthday celebration ever.

They want a party. But not just a party, they want A PARTY. One of such generous proportions it will require the hiring of a venue large enough to accommodate the hundreds of other teenagers they want to invite and the hundreds of relatives they also want to invite. (Mainly because relatives will bring desirable gifts being, of course, more solvent than the average teenager).

And the venue MUST HAVE  a stage because you can't have a large venue for a large party without having some kind of entertainment laid on (if only to make the poor fleeced relatives feel they're getting value for the money they've laid out on presents, one for each twin obviously.)

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