Smoking a fry ciggie at On a Roll
This guy is a modern-day sage. I called him a psychic and straight away he shoots back "No I'm not I'm the big guy!" because he thought I said side-kick. We always talk about what we dreamt the night before. He knows too much about everything just like all my other kids, mistakes were made. Mummybloggers, wait till your babies grow up to teenagers. Completely. Different. Universe.
However this guy is still young. Eight years old, almost nine .. he's the whole reason I started writing online to begin with and I documented his journey as an IVF 4-celled embryo to where he's at today.
He's an extraordinary human, young enough for the world not to have fucked him over yet. It's a joy being around him. He makes me look at things differently. Recently he cottoned on to the fact that Uncle Cam left a suicide note. "CAN I READ IT MUM!" .. I said no way mate and he got so pissed off because he likes to know everything. About everything. "Why not? When can I read it? You have to let me read it one day." I told him I would but he's too young right now. He thought for a while and said "Jeez. Uncle Cam killed his self. I thought he was smart."
My mum came up and they bonded so hard it was awesome. He's *so* impressed at her footy tipping skills. And chicken soup. And the rubiks cube she bought him. They text each other, both emoji champions.
Rocco thoughtfully helped out in the doctors surgery yesterday when I got stitches taken out of my shoulder, putting on latex gloves, telling me don't worry it'll only be excruciating for a little while. (Exact words.)
These two are currently splayed on my living room floor watching Ferris Buellers Day Off together. Cousin Morgan is his new bestie and favourite holiday playdate. The three of us are planning on going to the Royal Easter Show tomorrow - I've always been the parent who takes the kids to the big fun places. They've already talked me into going into the haunted house - frankly I'm looking forward to seeing the cake decorating winners #old
If anybody fucks with any of my kids, I fuck with them. It's my duty. My whole parenting career I've stuck up for all of my children and taught them how to stick up for themselves. I told off a lady in a supermarket once when she refused my stepson a sample yoghurt. I got up close in a bully's face in primary school and told him to lay off my kid or else. I've taught all the boys to be respectful to other people or else. They are. They're caring and empathetic and kind. I did that. Roc tells me all the things I've taught him about life so far and it blows me away how much he remembers. I'm an inappropriate unconventional mother with a penchant for answering my kids questions way too honestly. Can't help it. And kids always find out the truth anyway so I figure I'm just saving time.
We had to get the train to school recently which was basically the best thing that has ever happened to him in his life. He's frustrated he's the youngest but I tell him it's cool he'll be big soon enough, don't wish your days away sweetheart. At parent teacher/interview it was all glowing reports. His teacher is so happy with how he's doing even though he's the youngest in his class. He's excellent with words just like his mumma. (He writes raps with swear words holy shit they are AMAZING.) His first one was about his parents divorce, just wrote it out in five minutes and blew me away. He told the teacher that sometimes he comes to school feeling a lot of emotions and I explained he's had a pretty rough few years. The three of us all agreed he's doing so well.
After the teacher interview he did the pissbolt and his teacher turned and said how lucky Rocco was to have me. She said I was a really aware mother.
Out of all the adjectives in the world she used the word "aware." I thanked her and turned away .. she didn't see me cry.
Chased him down the street to the car trying to beat him but I never can because he ALWAYS wins in a fucking running race. And he always will.
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Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell