![]() Being a mother to your child can be likened to a romantic relationship, and sometimes I need my space. Movies and people would have you believe every moment is priceless I don’t think this is true. I keep going back to the poop because one of the shocking things for me was the diapers- they stink. Until then, I didn’t know it was possible to be glad to clean up poop but here we are. This one time, my child was constipated and didn’t poop for three days, when she finally did, I was exhilarated. Since becoming a mom, I’ve felt happiness from my child that I didn’t know was possible. Typing this brings the feelings back it was in those moments I realized that the responsibility of this child is mine for the rest of my life. I remember the fear and anxiety I felt when I had two near miscarriages. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I’ll share what my experience has been. To start, it involves a lot of packing poop. Being a mom is such a funny and weird thing. She doesn’t take life seriously ( well, she is 18 months), and she is ever keeping me on my toes. Stella told me.As it turned out, Funmi is such a happy child she is always smiling and is super playful. Me and Vinny are dead careful, and we only had sex once without a condom, our first time, and it's a scientific fact that virgins can't get pregnant. Her baby's bawling its head off and she looks knackered. Stella's the coolest girl in our year at school, easy.Ĭrooked Lane veers up from the river, and from there I turn up Queen Street, where I'm nearly mown down by Julie Walcott pushing her pram. When she was teaching me to smoke and I kept puking, she didn't laugh or tell anyone, and she's told me everything I need to know 'bout boys. Only Stella knows 'bout Vinnyshe was there that first Saturday in the Magic Busbut she can keep a secret. Stella says older men make better lovers with boys our age, she says, the ice cream melts once the cone's in your hand. Get him! Behind the tree! Set me free! Kids. Lots of little darting birds're twirly-whirlying like the tin-whistlers on strings kids get at birthdays, or used to, and a gang of boys're playing Kick the Can in the park round the church at Crooked Lane. Breathe in warm tarmac, fried spuds, and week-old rubbish spilling out of the binsthe dustmen are on strike again. A cement truck trundles by and its fumy gust makes the conker tree sway a bit and rustle. West Street's too bright and too dark, like a TV with the contrast on the blink, so I put on my sunglasses and they turn the world all dreamish and vivider and more real. "You're the smelliest dog in Kent," I tell him to stop myself crying, "you old fleabag." I pat his neck, unbolt the side door, and step into Marlow Alley. Not that I'm ashamed, I'd just rather not be there. In front of the regulars, it'll be "It takes a bigger idiot than me to step between the pecking hens" and they'll all nod and mumble, "Right enough there, Dave." Plus I'd rather not be in the room when he finds out 'bout Vinny. Echoing up from the cellar trapdoor is Dad's voice, crooning "Ferry 'Cross the Mersey." Better leave him out of it. I give her a little wave and she gives me one back, nervous. She's helping Dad do the restocking, but I can see she heard. From the hallway I see Sharon behind the bar by the fruit juice shelves. It's not a girl's glittering personality that men're interested in, Holly. I'll give you three days before Romeo turfs you out. " I never had the bloody chance, Holly! I've always had the pub to run, and you and Brendan and Sharon and Jacko to feed, clothe, and send to school so you won't have to spend your life mopping out toilets and emptying ashtrays and knackering your back and never having an early night." " You go, then, if school's so important!" So I carry on down the stairs to the ground floor.Ībove me, her voice tightens. But no, she just takes in my duffel bag and sneers like she can't believe how stupid I am. Mam's face sort of twitches, and if she says the right thing now, we'll negotiate. I don't want your rules, or your roof, or you hitting me whenever you lose your rag. Time you knuckled down and got some proper revision done." Mam appears with a basket of bar rugs on the first-floor landing, as if she wasn't lying in wait. Once Mam's got used to the idea, we'll see each otherI mean, we still saw Brendan after he married Ruth, yeah?"īut Jacko just puts the cardboard lid with his maze on deep into my duffel bag, gives me one last look, and disappears.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |