lauren3210

lmao, I write a post to say "hey, I'm back!" and then I promptly disappear again, sorry about that! I have been trying to respond to more posts on my friends list though, so I guess I'm making progress, slow as it may be. But I've just finished another epic rewatch of the Lord of the Rings (it's a thing I do every couple of months, because I'm weird like that) and I'm about to start reading a new book, so I thought I'd take some time in between to talk about what I've been up to lately:

WRITING:

I haven't been writing much recently, or at least, I haven't finished anything. My head seems to be teeming with ideas at the moment, some fanfic, some not, and I write like a woman possessed for about 10k, and then I look at it and think, "what the hell am I doing, this is crap," and then I start something else. It's weird, and it's annoying, and I'm wondering if I should in fact have signed up for some fests if this is how I write when I don't, tbh.

PARENTING:

So, as you know, Eryn, my eldest, is getting ready to take her GCSEs in a couple of months, and she's doing really well in every class except History. Now, in this subject, her fairly new teacher downgraded her coursework from a C to an E; told the class the wrong thing to revise for their mocks (the results of which go on college applications); spends most of her time trying to control the class instead of actually teaching anything of substance, and gave my daughter an Attitude to Learning level 1 - the worst mark you can get, and the only one she has ever received, EVER. So, last week I went in to talk to the History dept. about Eryn's work, and after a bit of back and forth about how Eryn should do this and Eryn should do that, I got kind of annoyed, and brought up everything the teacher has done in the past 6 months to knock Eryn's confidence in general. And then we got into a fight:

ME: All I'm saying is, there seems to be a common denominator here, and it's not Eryn.
TEACHER: *scowling* Well, Eryn, what did you say to me in class yesterday?
ERYN: *shrugs* I don't remember.
TEACHER: *yelling* How dare you shrug at me?! That's so rude!
ME: *smacks hand on table* Excuse you very fucking much, that's not rude, that's a social anxiety tic, along with her shaking hands and her inability to make eye contact. And how dare you try to teach her manners when I'm sitting right here? That's MY job, your job is to teach her history, and so far you're sucking at it!
HISTORY DEPT HEAD: Um, okay, so, Eryn you work on your revision, I'm sure you're going to do great!
BOTH TEACHERS: *run out of the room*

Yeah, I scared away two women in their 50s. Apparently though, I am well known in the school for winning arguments - one teacher tried to pull Eryn out of class for wearing nail varnish, and her head of house told the teacher not to because, and I quote "you do not want to tangle with Eryn's mum, believe me. She nearly made me cry once." (I did do that, lolololol)

FAMILY STUFF:

I had a little bit of a panic attack over my parents this weekend. I'd never really thought about it before, because until Joe left for Australia last week (and a guy nearly died in the seat in front of him on the airplane, bless him), he's always lived with them, but when I couldn't get in contact with my mum for two days, I freaked the fuck out, because what if something had happened? I'm 150 miles away, Jo is halfway across the world, how the hell would I even know if they needed help? It was the first instance I had of realising my parents' mortality, and I ended up spending 3 hours on the phone with my mum this afternoon, alternating between sobbing down the line and yelling at her to be more careful (turns out they'd gone on their boat for the weekend and forgot to tell me OR take their mobiles, for fuck's sake).

Also, I've been suffering from sciatica pains (a pinched nerve in my left bum cheek, all the way down to the back of my knee), and the other day I woke up after having slept in a funny position, and I can't move my right shoulder without whimpering. I'm walking around like a hunchback with a limp right now, I look utterly ridiculous! However I did get VERY VERY drunk on Thursday, because it was St Paddy's Day, and it's a rule for us Irish folk. Ben and I went down to our local Irish pub, and Ben wore a pair of my green leggings. I tried to get a picture of his hairy ankles, but I was utterly trolleyed and they all came out completely blurred. And now I'm going to have to buy a new pair, because he completely stretched out the crotch area (which he is ridiculously proud of, because he's a gross boy). One of these days though, I'm going to stop just telling you about the stupid things this man does, and just provide actual documentation!

Anyway, that's what I've been up to lately, and now I'm gonna go read a book. I hope you're all doing wonderful things, my darlings! ♥

So, I found a website that sells Converse Hi Tops in a range of different comic book characters, and I thought, hey, Eryn loves BOTH of these things so much, how about I spend loads of money on them for her for Christmas? But, I wanted it to be a surprise, so instead I asked Madison to go in and ask her if her fave was either The Joker, or Harley Quinn, because I couldn't remember. And what was Eryn's response? "shut up and go awaaaaayyyyy!"

Nice. See if I get you anything for Christmas now, you absolute buttface.

Sigh. I'm sure I wasn't this difficult as a teenager. But then again, my mother would probably tell a completely different story...

So, for those of you who read my post last week, I thought I'd give an update on what's been happening with my daughter's school. On Friday, I spoke with her head of house, Mr. A. It was only a brief chat, but he said that it would probably be fine, as long as she wore her hair down to cover it. Yay, I thought. Success! Then, later in the day, I get a call from my daughter, who is totally distraught. Following the advice of Mr. A, when asked by another teacher if she'd taken the piercing out, she said yes. Mr. W then demanded that she lift her hair to show him, to prove it. She said no, she doesn't have to show him any part of her body if she doesn't want to. He replied that if a member of staff tells her to do something she is to do it, without question. Now, guys, I'm just not having that, so when she called me in a panic, I asked her to hand me over to this Mr. W, with whom I had a bit of a chat, that basically amounted to me telling him that if he came within 10 feet of my daughter ever again, I would make sure the entire board of governors and the police know of his proclivity for telling teenage girls to do whatever he says without question. I mean, really, NO. Not acceptable behaviour, Mr. W. (and also, why are you even here, you don't even teach my daughter.)

So anyway, this morning, Eryn goes off to school with her hair down, but it turns out that this prick hasn't let it go, and so now her head of house and her head of year have decided that she must either remove the piercing, or stay in isolation until such time that the piercing has healed enough for her to remove it for the school day. So I get a phone call from Mr. A this morning, telling me of their decision, and I tried really fucking hard, I really did. I explained my stance on their forcing my child to choose between her right to her own body and her right to an education, I brought up the fact that other students come into school wearing jewellery and make up and hair dye without being taken out of classes for it. But, they refused to budge. And then he asked me what I was going to do about it. So, I told the fucker that I was going to leave the decision up to my daughter, because unlike him and the other two middle aged white men, I don't actually try to take control over my daughter's right to choose what happens to her.

And of course, my intelligent, beautiful, wonderful daughter chooses her education over her piercing. She could have stayed in isolation, could have sat in a room on her own and worked quietly on her schoolwork and kept the piercing she so desperately wanted, but she chose not to, because she knew that she wouldn't get the full educational experience without her teachers there to help her. I would have chosen the opposite; I would have sat in that class and stared them down, because I am and always have been a stubborn cow. And I just feel so bad for her, because she's being discriminated against because she's a good girl, a good student. They don't bother with the ones who walk into class with their faces done up like they're off on a night out clubbing, because they know they would be like me and wouldn't give in. They pick their battles, and they knew my daughter was one they could win, and I feel literally sick with rage. Because I remember it, I remember wearing the simple Claddagh ring that came from a time when my parents were still married, I remember the teacher insisting I take it off and give it to her, I remember the feeling of utter powerlessness, the frustrated hopelessness that comes with being put in a situation where you can do nothing other than bend to another person's will. It's been twenty years, and I can still remember that feeling, like a sick hot burn in my chest. And do you know what it feels like? It feels exactly like the time I was sexually assaulted in my own home, by someone I thought I could trust.

And yeah, it's only a piercing, only a piece of jewellery, and that's how I've tried to play it off to Eryn. I've told her that the very second her last exam is over, I will take her to get all the piercings she wants, we'll dye her hair blue like she wants, and she can walk back into that school and tell them exactly where they can shove their arbitrary rules. But it's not just a piercing, not to her. It's a part of her, a choice she made about herself that society (and by society I mean middle aged white men) has told her she's not allowed to make. And I wish I could tell her that it's a one off, that it won't happen again, that as soon as she's away from that school and in a place that won't treat their students like naughty puppies to be smacked on the nose for pulling at their leash, it'll be over. But I can't. I can't, because she's a female, and these hits are just going to keep on coming, and our schools seem determined to keep that as the status quo.

And now I need to go hit something forever. Ugh.

I'll be honest, there are times when I wonder to myself about this parenting lark. It's just so bloody difficult! More often than not, I worry that I'm doing something that will permanently damage these future people, and wonder why I ever thought becoming a parent was a good idea. Occasionally though, things happen that make all that stress and worry worth it, so I thought I'd share a few of those here.

( I've somehow made a badass teenager )

( When kids get one up on snarky adults )

( Confusing convos with a 4y/o )

Sometimes, being a parent is the best thing in the entire world!