Sod

Being a parent of grown up children is interesting.  It comes with many challenges.  Hopefully, you will have done a good job and they will be confident, valuable members of society and leave home.  This might make you sad and cause you to drive 300 miles in a day just to see them but it will save you having to live with an adult child.  Many children can't scrape together the deposit for a flat or just like having their laundry done by Mum and their dinners cooked by Dad.

If you have small children, you might want to start planning for this possibility now.  People will tell you to start saving for college but they won't mention the biggest problem you are going to face if your children don't leave home when they become an adult.

My son is having a gap year and so we have the pleasure of his company this year, while he earns some money and does a bit of travelling.  It would be nice if it wasn't for the problem.

Where do you put three cars?

"We thought of that when we bought the house," said our neighbour with three grown up children who all still live at home.
I was impressed.  They moved in when we did - 23 years ago.
They have a large amount of paved space in front of their house, that often has seven or eight cars on.

We decided that we had to sacrifice our front garden.  I won't get rid of the tree, or the hedge but the grass was tatty anyway.  I refuse to pave over.  I worry about flooding, so we have compromised and plumped for gravel.

The Long Suffering Husband has been talking about making the garden a parking space for a while but it was winter and we felt lazy.  Then the local DIY store had a sale. As soon as the birds started singing the LSH jumped out of bed.
"Come on," he said, "there's too much to do.  We've got to dig it all out before the gravel arrives."
I was grumpy.
By the time my son got back from work we had got into it but were beginning to feel a bit old and stiff.  My son, who can usually be a lazy sod, decided he should help, as his failure to leave home had prompted this activity.

A lazy sod standing on his spade

"How far should I dig down?" he asked the LSH
"Just get rid of the sod,"
"That would have been easier," I said looking between the boy and the skip.

A skip full of sod

What if?

From the moment you find out you are expecting a child you worry.  Will they have all their fingers and toes? Will they cry all night?  Will they have ginger hair?

You delude yourself that you have some control over what will happen.  You watch other parents and think, "I'm never going to be like that!"  Self-righteousness becomes your middle name.

A normal sleep pattern is never your right ever again.  During pregnancy they kick and wake you, in infant-hood they need feeding and changing, as toddlers they just wake up to squeeze in between you and your husband trying to make sure they remain an only or the youngest child.  When they go to school they sleep, exhaustedly through the night but you have forgotten how.  You lie awake worrying; do they have friends, are they making their 2 levels progress (ha), are their teachers being mean to them.  They take exams and you worry.  They walk to the post box for the first time you worry.  They go into town with their friends you worry.  They get on the wrong bus home you worry. They learn to drive and you worry.  They go out and get drunk and you worry.

What no one tells you is that you worry after.  It is when they are home and safe that you lie awake at night and think.  What if they had failed that exam?  What if they had taken the wrong turning to the post box?  What if their friends had left them in town on their own?  What if they hadn't rung you for a lift when they realised the bus wasn't going to bring them home?  What if they forgot everything they've proved they can do whilst driving?  What if they hadn't got home safely?

Sue Perkins posted this picture on Twitter yesterday, saying she wished she worked there.

She can't be a parent, otherwise she would know that she already works there, that it is a very stressful job and the pay is appalling!