Flaming June

by Sir Frederic Leighton

All of my family have always bemoaned June - there are loads of birthdays and it is considered an 'expensive' month.  Who cares I say, my birthday is in June and that's alright then.  Ha ha.  In fact, lets just talk about me me me for a moment - when I was growing up, I felt terribly special that my birthday is exactly 6 months from Jesus' birthday, therefore confirming that Jesus and I share a special connection.  This long held belief was shattered some years back by some do-gooder pointing out that 25th June is, in actual fact, the furthermost point in the calendar away from Christmas Day.  Poo.  I felt quite disconcerted for a very long time about this. 

Moving on, June is also the month that my little cherub was born (nuff said about that hideous tale of a shitty point in time for me) and said little cherub will be 10 in a few days.  Whilst sat watching him in a swimming lesson last night I suddenly locked onto a train of thinking about how he was changing, growing up and getting better at things, and then, out of the blue, I was struck by the realisation that realistically I have about four more years with him before his childhood is - unsurprisingly, over.

This thought struck me with such a force that I started to cry.  Not sob, obviously, but a welling up and flood of tears that caused major sniffling and profuse eye-wiping to take place.  The thought that I have less years of sharing his childhood ahead of us than have already passed has upset me terribly.  The thought that I have just three or four more summers and Christmases to enjoy closeness and shared enjoyments left me feeling quite distraught.  Obviously whilst I don't imagine this to be an overnight thing - the distancing will happen, and this will be a distancing which must happen in order for him to learn to be independent.  I am so filled with sorrow about it I can't tell you.  I suppose it is the type of thing which makes you start to think about another baby.... but I don't want another baby.  I  just want him again.  I want his childhood years again.  I know what I must not do - I must not and will not allow these feelings to cloud the present and the happiness I have with him at this point in our lives.

Enough gloom. 

Today we went to Clip'n Climb - a treat for Oliver and his friend at the start of Oliver's birthday weekend.  He loved it.

I paid for him to have a go at the 'leap of faith', where you climb up reeealllly high onto a platform and then leap across a huuuuge gap to grasp a trapeze suspended in mid-air:

See that platform on the right there?  It is a leap from there across the grand canyon to grasp that flimsy red handle on the left.  Er, no.

I know Oliver was scared about this, and after gee-ing him along with words about positive thinking and such bollocks, I walked around and up the stairs to the balcony almost level with the leap of faith platform.  I looked down and thought to myself that there was no sodding way I would ever be having a go at that, thank you very much.

Unsurprisingly, both Oliver and his friend climbed up to the platform, took one look, whimpered, and had to be rescued by the climbing staff.  Don't blame them at all.

After this was the birthday treat meal - the ubiquitous McDonalds.  I pulled up in the car park, only to realise that I had left Oliver's insulin at home, and he could not eat without it.  Balls.  This turned into a drive-thru followed by a hasty dash across Exeter in the rush hour traffic.  Spiffing Friday I call it.

We have bought Oliver a box of Pokemon booster packs for his birthday - 36 packs in all, each containing 10 cards.  So lots of new cards.  The hope is that there will be some great cards in there to help him build his 'ultimate' deck for the National competition at the end of the week.  In poking about on the official Pokemon website, I was stunned to see that Oliver is ranked 13th junior in the UK!  This has really boosted his confidence, and I am really happy for him.

Mooooving along to crochet world, I have just passed the halfway point in my Daisy ripple. 

I am quite relieved this is turning out OK, because I have had a lot of misgivings about just using purple shades, and it is not the design I originally planned to do.  Still - it's all gonna be OK. 

And here is my progress on the Babette, which looks rubbish, but in my defence, I have chucked away several wrongly sized and wrongly shaded squares thus far, and every time I pick it up to do again, I forget the pattern, size hook and shades I have decided on, and this feeling of having to start over every time makes it all very laborious.

And no, I don't iron my duvet cover.  Can't think of anything more pointless.

Rained a lot lately hasn't it?  Can you just feel the irony?  I change the habit of a lifetime and make a conscious decision to welcome the summer with open arms, not moan and enjoy my sun-filled days and it pisses with rain and blows a hoolie for days on end with temperatures to rival Autumn.  Sacre bleu.

PS: I didn't return to the exercise regime from hell.  After stewing and fuming for a few days, I sent him an email telling him that I wasn't coming back and that I thought it a bit much to demand input and effort from his customers in order for him to make the sessions 'interesting and enjoyable', since it is his job, and he is getting paid for it.  I also said I knew what I should be doing fitness and foodwise, the problem lay in the fact that I am not doing it.  I finished up by saying I was looking for motivation and support, not to become Private Benjamin.  Think some bridges have definitely been burnt there.