24 June, 2011

Not the most hated mother on the planet!

I've managed to escape being 'hated' by Chickie this week. You see, a month or so back, he'd brought home two notes from school. One for swimming and one for dancesport. I merrily signed both and sent in the required cash and thought all was good. Oh boy was I wrong!

A couple of weeks ago, I picked him up from school and he had an absolutely thunderous face. He took one look at me and said "I hate you* - you made me go to dance. I had to dance with GIRLS!". Turns out, the dancesport note wasn't compulsory - just an 'if you're interested' type of thing. Silly me didn't realise that, and had condemned my long suffering 9 year old boy to dancing with a girl. For four weeks...

Last week was the same - he hated me again and not only did he have to dance with all the girls, but he had to hold their hands (oh, the horror!).

This week I was pleasantly suprised to find he liked dancesport. Turned out that, this week, they were taught how to moonwalk. Not only did he enjoy himself but he and a friend discussed how cool they were for being able to get the idea of how to do it, when their teacher told them it took her several months to perfect it herself. All the while I was trying very very hard to keep a straight face.

I heaved a huge sigh of relief though. It was nice not to be the most hated mother this week.

* I know some people have an issue with their kids telling them they hate them. I don't personally, as I feel it's just a way of Chickie dealing with his emotions. I see it as a learning curve and sometime will tell him that it's a way of knowing I'm doing my job as a mother and not giving in to everything he wants. Other times I'll tell him that I might dislike his behaviour but never him. He normally calms down soon after then comes and apologises for saying it anyway.

01 June, 2011

Chickie is 9!

Hard to believe my little baby is growing up. It's his 9th birthday today!

Bit of a coincidence but he woke up earlier this morning - at 12.45am exactly, which just so happens to be the moment he was actually born. He was quite tickled by the fact that he woke up at the exact moment. I thought it was funny that he woke up then as well.

I wasn't quite as happy that he then woke up at about 4am - ready to start the day. J and I sent him back to bed, only to be woken up again at 6.15am! We gave up and gave him his pressie. At least he had plenty of time to play with his new stuff before school. I suppose I can't be too surprised at his eagerness.