Flat sharing with 12 year olds…

Flat sharing with 12 year olds…

I am feeling pretty proud of myself this week,

I have successfully managed to hold down this parenting job for twelve years.  Plus I survived the 9 month trial period before that.

I did go into the career on a job share contract, which has changed over recent years to being a more of a full-time position with the occasional weekend respite care relief.  However, because of my many years experience, I have somehow managed to still not lose, maim, or have my twelve-year olds removed from me, and I manage to hold down other, slightly more lucrative roles.

It only took 12 minutes of being a mum to realize that it was going to be a financially draining role, and I would have to work other jobs around it to save both my bank balance and sanity.

In twelve years my sanity has been questionable many times, I was possibly unhinged when I decided to add to the team five years into the role.  In retrospect it was the best thing I ever did.  But being parent to three just meant the pay got worse, the hours got longer and the medical insurances went through the roof.

Still, 12 years is something to celebrate.

Getting two tiny little babies to being this grown up is something I am incredibly proud of….

twins

 

When I look at them, my heart melts…

parenting 12 year olds

But, wow, 12 – so much to learn….

  1. My clothing budget is now blown: My son – not so many moon ago, proudly boasted a collection of t-shirts from Asda.  Now he lives in a sea of tracksuits, all boasting a designer name.  My daughter wears an adult size.  Don’t even get me started on the cost of shoes….
  2. I used to own eight mugs, it was sufficient for a family of four – where only one of us drinks tea on a regular basis.  I recently branched out and bought eight more, because I have no idea where the rest are….
  3. I have a sneaking suspicion they are buried in a bedroom – bedrooms that I have to knock before entering – despite being the only payer of the mortgage.
  4. Weekend hobbies are still the same; swimming, ice – skating, bowling and so forth.  But suddenly my presence is no longer required, I am merely needed to taxi and provide funds.  I am being made redundant in the most expensive way.
  5. They have boyfriends and girlfriends – they are officially more successful in relationships than me!
  6. They eat in a fashion similar to a bear about to go into hibernation.  The fridge is always empty…

I no longer feel like a parent, when I am queuing up outside the loo in the morning I feel like I am back at Uni in a flat share.  These two small grown ups move around me, maturing every day.  I finally realise that our days are starting to be numbered, they won’t be in my home for ever….

Although at least then I will get my mugs back……

 

(Happy Birthday kids!)

 

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