Saturday, November 12, 2005

TGIF - or so you would think....

WHAT a feckin Friday evening. I spent all afternoon soooo busy in work (oops I nearly typed ‘busty’ in work!), its cold, miserable, wet and I am still getting over the after effects of that nasty stomach bug that has been going around yum – then Madam (see explanation below) just excelled herself this week.

(The young wan will hereafter be known as Madam, that was always her kinda nickname in the family, ‘how’s Madam?’, ‘Madam! who left all these toys all over the living room?’, ‘MADAM who emptied the bean bag all over the floor?’, you know the scenarios. But I started calling her the young wan in the first post and kept it up believing it would preserve our anonymity, HA! As many of you will know young wan is a Dublin term and not something I have ever used for her before this blog being an Antrim woman. Now that we have cleared that up, back to what I was saying.)

As some of you may remember from a previous post found here the trouble over the phone, or should I say the fecking, ridiculously and crazily-expensive, price of a luxury-holiday phone bill.

Without getting into things that I do not feel comfortable or indeed want to get into, its been a tough couple of weeks here. Madam has been acting up in the quiet sullen way she has been adopting of late, I have worried myself to withering point and following a really, really unbelievable row of mammoth proportions, the air was cleared and a clean line was drawn, the slate was wiped clean.

Now most normal people, or so you would think, would be on their best behaviour but the mask slipped, well was tossed to the side this afternoon when she invited all her friends in to the flat after school.

Today was the first day she has been on her own after school since her Nanny came to stay two weeks ago and did she go for it or what!

It may sound strict but I will not have a gang of teenagers, particularly at their age and particularly given the fact that she is grounded, in my house when I am not there.

Like many Friday evenings in work, just as you are preparing for next week by clearing up the mess from your desk that you have garnered over this week, the phones went mad with people needing stuff done.

In between taking these phonecalls, the lovely man called and I couldn’t talk to him, then Madam called and I couldn’t speak to her at that moment.

I tried to call home but I couldn’t get through as it was constantly engaged.

Then a message came through, first from the lovely man, then one from Madam.

This was strange and the alarm bell started to softly chime because our drill is that she phones me once on the mobile and I call her straight back from work to lessen the phone bill at home.

So she never leaves a message.

Then I listened to it…

I listened to the hoops, the noise, the craziness that was obviously going on in my flat when she had inadvertently phoned me AND left the evidence in a very long and very raucous message.

When I was finally able to get through to her, a long time later, I was livid, absolutely stark-raving mad.

Course the background noise in the house was gone, things were as hush as hush can be, the little bollixes. And Madam had little to say for herself in between my rantings.

After hanging off I called her again and obviously one of her pals, and not a bright spark by the sounds of it, must have suggested she claim the noise was the telly.

*Sigh* - and a really big one at that!

And she did claim that – the buck eejit, Holy Jaysus, she really does think I came up the Lagan in a bubble.

Thats the end of going to see Wallace and Gromit this weekend, oh and the shopping too.

So it was tense to say the least when I came in, there was lots of shouting from me, lots of blank looks from Madam, so I told her to tidy her room.

And she went, lay down and fell asleep….

Fast forward through more shouting (what must the neighbours think?), there is a pile the size of a small van in the middle of her room, courtesy of myself, she’s in bed and will be up at 8am to tidy it up.

And me, I am sitting in front of a lovely fire, with a glass of wine, I am hoping there is a movie on and I am going to chill out for Ireland if it kills me.

There’s also a post in the making which I haven’t yet finished because I feel I need to tell you all the things I love about her as well the many, many wonderful things about her that are so unique to her and very special but she is doing her utmost to hide them for some dopey teenagey-bollixy reason.

I feel all I do is complain but all this has been a shock to my system and not what I am used to all up to at all, well up to now that is. And I suppose setting up this blog was really about being a cathartic approach to coping with my daughter as she grows up and all the challenges that brings to both of us.

However another couple of years of this and you could/will be visiting me in a mental hospital. Teenagers are a law onto themselves.

And just to end this post on a brighter note, here's a pic from a couple of weeks ago taken just as the sun was setting.

St Peters again

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Claire said...

I hope you found a good film to watch and thoroughly enjoyed your glass of wine.

Boy, I'm terrified of this creature known as a teenager that's going to be living in my house in 12 years time!

Emma in Canada said...

I think that no matter how frustrated you are with your daughter it definitely comes across that she is very loved and very well raised. Wish I could say the same some days.