I can’t seem to get it right with my teenagers this week. Whatever I suggest is wrong. The advice I give is outdated, the questions I am asking are ignored by one teenager and huffed at by another. Even my impression of the cat talking with a speech impediment didn’t get any laughs. Nothing. Just a sigh, a look, and then, slam.
I had my first child when I was 30. He started school when I was 34. You think you know it all at 30, but of course, this isn’t true. Nor at 40, and probably not 50, 60, 70 or 80 either. I suppose life would be boring if we knew it all. Sort of.
But. There are things that I do know now, things that had I known then would have made my life a damn sight easier. Or maybe just my conscience clearer.
It’s bad enough that I’m a middle-aged parent. The wrong side of 45. That I homeschool my kids and so therefore only get to speak to another adult when the farmer needs help shifting the cows.
It’s hard enough that I emigrated from a trendy, city chic lifestyle in the heart of Bath a decision that I have to justify to my kids every time I get the HP sauce out. An hour from the city lights by train. Yes. There were trains. Real ones. With buffet cars and everything. (more…)
I’m Liz, and this is my family.
I do Travel. I do Wine. I do being a mum to big kids. Sometimes I do all three at the same time.
I don’t do hormones. Or looking perfect for Instagram. Or dieting.
Read more about who I am and why we should be friends on our about us page.