I like…

I like Frozen… the secret is out. I’m sure I’m betraying the solidarity of mothers everywhere who incessantly whine about the movie and its soundtrack, but I like it. I like it more than my kids do. I often hum or sing the songs. They’re regularly in my head.

I like Disney, in fact. The animation is astounding. Love the developments each time.

I don’t care if the story lines have faults – they’re for kids. Kids don’t care. I don’t care.

I love the characters – even the traditional princesses. Yes, I like them, too.

But I do love Frozen. I love Maleficent, too – just an aside there – because everyone else seems to hate that one as well – but I loved it.

I could easily be Elsa. Seriously. Who wouldn’t love the ability to throw ice bolts and freeze stuff? And in time to the music to boot! She is currently my role model. I could definitely grow up to be Elsa.

I dislike that the phrase ‘let it go’ is now so cliched… but I love the song… and i love the fact that if you’ve trodden that ‘let it go’ path, it makes sense! It really does. The moment when she realises that it just doesn’t matter anymore – all the rules, all the regulations, all the people…. let it go.

My kids find me amusing. Frozen is not one of their favourites. My eldest likes traditional princesses. The youngest doesn’t like anything at all if you say you do… And my baby dragon is definitely NOT a princess – I defy anyone to try to tell her otherwise… Her favourite show at the moment is Dr Ouch… or maybe Dinotopia… or Phantom of the Opera… or something along those lines… something without princesses….

I will need to have a Frozen party of my own when they are out 😉

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I love my children… but!

I am tired of thinking and saying this phrase. I love my children… but!

Of course I love them. Or is that nor necessarily a given? I do wonder at times… Especially when I consider my own parents. I know they love me…. or at least, I think they do… but!

Back to my own cherubs. I do love them. I truly do. They are my world and all those other cliches…. But!

I have raised spoilt brats. I truly have.

My upbringing was quite Victorian – raised with the rod, finances were tight, children were mostly seen and not heard.

My children on the other hand, have been given far too much on a silver platter. And now they are all princesses.

My eldest has gone away on a school jaunt for a few days. She’s going to have a great time, as well as come home exhausted. And moody… yay…. Of course, she needed money… Of course, she has left her clothes strewn across her bedroom. Of course, she has left several bottles of nail polish on the coffee table – obviously in the hope that her two youngest siblings will do their own nails and half the lounge room carpet?

Number two lives away…. but his sense of entitlement astounds me. If we go out to eat, he infallibly chooses the most expensive item. He only visits if I will take him places that cost money. He won’t spend birthdays and holidays with us unless there’s a great present involved…. and realistically, he’ll get that from me regardless, so he chooses to go elsewhere to get presents he wouldn’t otherwise have.

Number three and four are a pack. Twenty months between them, but they come as a pair. People meet them and often assume they are twins. They don’t look alike, they just have a crazy bond. They cost far less than their teenage siblings… but the entitlement is there already. They are insanely fussy about food recently. Oh, we don’t like that brand of yoghurt, milk, bread… Since when??

My eldest had the audacity yesterday, as she was chattering, to laughingly mention some of her friends who have to actually work… She didn’t notice the look on my face… so she continued…. It’s so funny! They work and they’re like ‘I don’t get paid til Thursday so I can’t go to the movies Wednesday’…. and I’m like ‘well, I just have the money in my bank account’…. That chatter didn’t end so well… I had a bad mummy moment…. We had a very firm (one sided) conversation about the fact she will be bankrupt by 21…. a very bad mummy moment….

A part of my brain is writing the eldest two off as a loss. Yes, I know that I can’t actually do that… but seriously – I have two more to get it right – can’t I just call it quits on the first two? The youngest are possibly salvageable….

Is this a symptom of society? Can I simply blame others? It would be so much easier and nicer to not take the responsibility… but realistically, that’s rubbish. Yes, it takes a village to raise a child, but it also takes parenting. Time to be the parent that is hated for a while…. but hopefully, ultimately, appreciated :/