Doing Less of...

Doing Less of...

Another prompt from BlogHer, as I draw to the end of my second NaBloPoMo: 'what do you want to do less of in 2014?'

A couple of things spring immediately to mind. Firstly, I am going to have to do less blogging, as I need to focus all my energies on not messing up my new job. Secondly, less drinking, as replacing milk with Baileys Irish Cream has not worked well for me. Thirdly, less SPENDING ALL MY MONEY ON UNGRATEFUL CHILDREN - this is a new resolution which I made loudly and grumpily at last night's debacle.

I booked a pantomime. Yes, I know the kids are 11 and 12 but this one sounded AMAZING I was fooled by the advertising for this one, thinking that the sci fi special effects and 'people from the X-factor' would impress the kids succeed in transporting us all back to a magical state of childlike wonder.

Five minutes into the show, as the celebrity singer's voice grated on every nerve I had, I realised that this wasn't going to happen. It was like watching the first episodes of the XFactor, when people are pouring their heart and soul into singing emotional songs in a very mediocre fashion. (why the kids didn't enjoy this, I have no idea as they force me to sit through the X factor all the time). My daughter's very posture screamed I AM SULKING, and I realised that she had sneaked earphones into her ears, under cover of her hair, in order to drown out the music from the panto with One Direction (I might have minded less had she been listening to something good).

'We could just go home,' said Stepson (who had been picked up from his second Christmas at his Mum's in order to attend this wonderful event), hearing me informing Rose Petal that RUDE SULKY CHILDREN DON'T GET CHOCOLATE AT THE INTERVAL.

I sent the children away to look at the chocolate that they WEREN'T GETTING while I calmed down and had a conflab with Husband.

'Maybe we just have to admit they are getting older now,' he said 'they are not really into pantomimes any more.'

Mostly I DO admit that they are getting older; I even quite like it. They are funnier and wittier and cleverer than they ever used to be; they make me laugh and they make me think and I love spending time with them (when I can bribe them to be with me). I don't want them to remain children forever.

I just wanted them to PRETEND, just for a couple of hours at Christmas, and watch a pantomime so that I could relive the joys of childhood/having children. Was that really too much to ask?

Well, maybe.

We agree to stop torturing ourselves, give up and go home, rather than watch the second half.

Husband claimed to be 'disappointed' that we had to leave. (However, Stepson reports that on reading the sign 'smokers will be ejected and not let back in', his Dad considered lighting a cigarette in the toilets, so he is clearly lying about that.)

On our return, the kids raided the kitchen and demanded to be allowed to watch an 18-rated film. Sigh.

'I think I might be pregnant,' I said to Husband wistfully.

'Why?'

'I've put on loads of weight,'

'Really?' he says 'But you always think you're pregnant. You don't think it's got anything to do with all the chocolate and Baileys you've been having?'

I have to admit, that might be the reason for the weight gain.

I'm having a Baileys not a Baby, and my panto-watching days are over...on reflection, maybe I can let that last one go.

So, in 2014 there will be less drinking Baileys, less blogging and less trying to persuade the children that they are still  7 years old...Tomorrow's prompt is, what would you like to do more of in 2014? Hmmm.

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