Notes Landing*

*See what I did there? Eh? Eh?  … … What? No fans of cheesy 1980s Soap Operas among you? Shoulder pads that could affect the climate? Ring any bells?

Pffft… Don’t know why I bother…

Ahem… One of the worst things about being a parent is trying to maintain
discipline, even as your heart is breaking. When you add hysterical laughter
into that cocktail, it begins to seem like an impossible job.

Today, for example, my youngest daughter refused to eat her
dinner, then threw a tantrum, then slapped her older brother as she stormed out
of the kitchen. As a result, she was sent to her bed.

Well… Hannah (Loola, to family members) learned, from
watching her siblings, that sitting in your bed, screaming things like “my
tummy hurts!” and “I’ve got a sore throat!” is not the way to get attention
when you’ve been naughty. But, being her father’s daughter, she will not rest
until she has said what she wants to say, one way or another.

Now, my children are the centre of my universe, and I always
give the two little girls a kiss before tucking them in at bedtime, so I HATE
having to send them to bed crying. But, we try our best to ignore little bits
of paper, fluttering down the stairs to the tune of “Little girl sobbing her
eyes out”.

Imagine how I felt then, when I tiptoed upstairs to find
Hannah – having cried herself to sleep – surrounded by little tear-stained notes,
written in felt pen, with a shaky little hand; saying all the things that her
older siblings would have screamed at the top of their lungs when they were her
age.

I have enclosed a photo – complete with translations, for
those of you who don’t speak “penitent little girl” – of just a few of the
notes she posted through the stair railings in her anguish. If you can read
them without going “Awww!” to yourself, then you have a heart of stone that
would make Emperor Palpatine look like a campaigner for Save The Ewoks.

Hannah's first blog.

Some days, I really hate being a dad.

In other news… The recently acquired puppy is forcing me to re-examine my
beliefs. After all, I can’t ignore the possibility that there is a God when my new puppy is clearly the daughter of SATAN!
My own daughter has recovered from a severe bout of seed-in-eye, followed by a
late visit to A&E, earlier in the week. My entry to the 2011 Bridport Short
Story Prize is currently winging its way toward a waste-paper basket in Dorset.
There isn’t even another YouTube Vlog this week. However, in the absence of any
further rejection letters, I have decided to begin round two of The Moors Bid for Exhaustive Rejection.
I’m not sure when this will begin, as I really do have to work on some video
stuff, but probably in the next 2-3 weeks.

Until then… what with the new puppy, and Hannah’s moist
little notes of apology, it’s been a week of stomach-churning cutesy-ness,
which has left me feeling more drained than usual. I think I’ll have to go and
verbally abuse some kittens. Maybe punch a gosling or two; just to restore
balance.

Enjoy the weekend, and if you see a limping bunny-rabbit…
kick its crutches away would you? Just for me.

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3 comments on “Notes Landing*

  1. I must admit my heart melted. I remember well the special challenge I presented to my parents as a kid. Every morning – without fail – I would throw a tantrum over breakfast, storm upstairs and slam the bedroom-door not one, not two but three times. (One morning they only heard me slamming it twice but a minute later I got back up from the bed to slam it that ones last time). I would proceed to cry my heart out in rage and about 10 minutes later I’d walk downstairs, avoiding eye-contact, and be back to normal in the blink of an eye. I would have felt so horrible to find those notes, I have a tendency to mother my friends so to have to face that, can’t imagine it, I would probably be bringing her supper in bed ^^ I’ll make a terrible parent, no backbone at all!

    Like

    • It’s not easy to have backbone at moments like that, I can tell you.
      Thank for commenting. I will continue to follow your blog. It’s a jolly good read.

      Like

  2. Pingback: The Final Countdown – 3… | The Sleepless Blog

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