Appreciation

Each week, month or term, (I can't say I pay much attention to my childrens' schooling) my daughter comes home telling us about the "value" that she and her little harridan friends are being taught at school.

"Appreciation" has been a past value they have learned, or we shall pretend it has been for the benefit of this article.  Given my recent state of mind however, it is very possible she has not learned it at all.

A minor nervous breakdown was induced by the following comments from my children:

Evidence 1
The Big Child:  "Mummy, what happens to children who only have a Daddy and no Mummy?"
Me:  "Why darling, why do you ask?", says I, thinking this will be a deep discussion on different structures of families or maybe death
The Big Child:  "Well, if a child doesn't have a Mummy, who is going to do all the work?"

Evidence 2
The Small Child:  "Daddy, is The Big Child coming to Grandma and Grandad's?"
The Husband:  "Yes, Small Child"
The Small Child:  "Is Mummy coming to Grandma and Grandad's?"
The Big Child:  "No,  Mummy is having a break"
The Small Child:  "But I don't want Mummy to have a break".

Evidence 3
The Big Child:  "Make sure you drop me off and go"
The Big Child:  "I don't want you to stay"
The Big Child:  "What are you still doing here?"

The Big Child:  "Are you going to pick me up?
Me:  "No, harridan one's mother will collect you"
The Big Child:"  YES!" (punches air with joy)

The Small Child:  "You are a bum face"   

Case closed me'lud.  They are either teaching the wrong kind of appreciation to these six year olds; appreciation of the bouquet of a fine wine, the robust stench of a moulding stilton, the beauty of Michelangelo's David, but to appreciate one's mother?  Not on their radar, to quote the little office jargon I remember.    

These "out of the mouths of babes" comments resulted in a full blown tantrum, doors slamming and crying in the shower by me (nothing to do with pre-op transgenderism) but because I decided I needed a break because I am unappreciated and unloved.  This was particularly helped by my husband who remarked "you do realise, even if you go away for a few days... they still won't listen to you when you come back", to which I responded,  "yes, in fact a break from all three of you would be just capital!"

And here I am at the end of this week, on a three and a half day break in my house.  Kids and husband gone away, the house to myself.  Mildly petrified by the windy "whooooo ooooooo" noises swirling about outside and in through the chimney  but otherwise in complete bliss.  I have not been remotely productive other than creating this blog today and improving my vocabulary by watching three episodes of Frasier.

Back to "appreciation".  I am now resigned to the fact that as parents, we will not receive the fawning gratitude from our offspring that we desire.  I did shed a small tear as the kids drove off.  They timed it brilliantly as the manipulative little dwarves do.  They decided to pick that moment as they were whisked from my life to wave wildly goodbye and shout for the whole street to hear over and over again that they loved me and would miss me.

The fact is, they will appreciate the fact I gave up my career, my adventurous travels with my husband, my social life, my stomach muscles, belly button and hooters to stay at home with them and be there everyday to see every little wonderful and disgusting thing they do and be as close to them during their young years as I could.  Of course, by they time they realise this, when they are 35 and married with children, I will be dead.