Einstein was right. Time is relative
Is it me, or are children born with a super human ability? I’m not talking superman or wonder woman, its more in depth than that! I can’t give it a name as it appears to be inconsistent. Lauren will be turning 11 in early 2018, yet she has already perfected her skills in being able to push me right to my limits! I can ask this child a thousand times to pick up her dirty clothes from the floor and she’ll claim to have not heard me. Yet if I open a chocolate bar in the kitchen she will hear me from the other side of the house…on a different floor…whilst she had headphones on and music playing!!! Its as if her ears become super human for that fraction of a second. After this split second of phenomenal hearing her reflexes can kick in to demi-god like action, moving her at speeds Formula-One teams dream of! She can be up from her room, down the stairs and asking for a piece of chocolate from the bar which is not yet open, in under half a second. However, when its time to leave for school, Lauren would be beaten in a race to the car by a sloth…with no legs…who is tied to a chair!!!
As I write the first draft of this blog post, I am sat in a room listening to the constant thud from a kickboxing lesson taking place upstairs and the dramatic sounds of singing and acting coming from Laurens drama class next door. Getting her to this drama class is in itself a drama each week! She chose to do this class on the same day she already has an after school club, meaning I have 45 minutes to get her the 20 miles from school to the class plus feed her and get her changed. As previously mentioned she is never quick when we need her to be, so this particular day of the week is always a pressurised one. I know this and she knows this. So why, for crying out loud, does she make it as difficult as possible?! Todays classic; “I forgot my clothes” resulted in an argument I never thought I’d have!
“Daddy I forgot my clothes for Drama”
‘Oh no. I’m not very impressed Lauren, now we have to drive home and we’ll be late, you’re sure you don’t have them?”
“I’m sure, Sorry Daddy”
Very nearly home (15 miles and 25 minutes out of the way)
“Oh never mind my clothes are in my bag”
‘What? How did you not see them when you looked earlier?’
“Oh I didn’t look in my bag, I just can’t remember packing them!”
It was here, (I will later regret), I lost my cool. I know it’s really my fault. I should’ve checked her bag before we left that morning and again when she said she couldn’t find them. I know that now, but I was under pressure and I’m tired; oh so tired! I haven’t had a good night sleep in a decade! I long for the days when I struggled to be up in time to get a McDonalds breakfast! Anyway; as I sit here now I can hear her performing next door. I can hear her reading her lines with such effort and emphasis, putting everything she has into the part she is playing. Words cannot express the love I have and how proud I am. So why do I lose my cool with her over something silly? Something that in the grand scheme of things doesn’t matter? I guess in the heat of the moment being 10 minutes late to drama feels like…well…a drama!
|Lauren Singing at a show in 2016|
I think that having to run the forgotten homework or P.E kit into school during the day, or running the forgotten lunch box to her feels like a waste of my time. Time I need to spend making her life better. Time I need to spend cleaning the house, sorting diaries or trying to replace a damaged boiler. But that right there is the key. TIME. Children have no concept of time. We are not born with a natural body clock or understanding of 9 to 5 or a 12 hour shift pattern or even night from day. Time is, after all, relative. When she wants to sleep in (Monday through Friday during school term time), 5 minutes wizzes by. Yet when she wants me to get up and play at 05:35 (Saturdays, Sundays and any day during the school holidays), 5 minutes is an eternity.
|Lauren performing in Annie 2016|
She is 10 years old and it won’t be long before she won’t want me to get up and spend time together. She won’t need me to take her places any more so I should cherish it. Regardless of how trying Lauren can be, she really is an angel. With that in mind I’ve decided as soon as her drama class is over, we can drive through, grab a happy meal and park up by the river and watch the swans. Sometimes emotions get the better of us and we won’t stop that. We can however control what we do to make up for it. In weeks to come, Lauren won’t remember the fight, she’ll remember the time Dad took her to McDonalds and we sat by the river. What if she doesn’t learn a lesson about being more organised??? I guess we’ll have to have a Happy Meal picnic next week too!
|Car picnics & Happy Meals|
Ian B xxx