So my children have this week made their Christmas lists.
I know what you're thinking;
"OMG, are you mad? It's August what are you doing woman?"
But, when you have children like mine it's best to prepare yourself for the shock well in advance of the event. And sure enough, as expected, their lists consisted of an amalgamation of interesting things which they haven't a hope of getting.
These lists included; an ipad 2, a laptop, hair straighteners, a £150 doll, an x-box live one years subscription, a 42 inch TV and most surprising of all was...
But, this moped came with the specification that it wasn't to be a second or third hand Moped, it had to be brand new!
Yes son, keep dreaming was my immediate thought when I read this one.
I seem to have gone drastically wrong somewhere. My children are living under the false impression that my husband and I have an abundance of money endlessly floating around our bank account (I bloody wish!) just waiting for them to think up unusual and novel ways to spend it.
They seem to believe they are millionaire kids and can have what they want whenever they fancy it.
Oh to be a child and live in blissful ignorance, what a wonderful life!
Sometimes I wonder which of us is the parent and which is the child.
My eldest son came to me last weekend and informed me that we were having a party for his birthday and had already invited some people, and needed me to let him know what food we were going to have.
Now, is it just me, or is there something slightly wrong with the balance of power here?
Especially as I now find myself having to prepare the house, food, drink, decorations, etc for a party I don't remember being consulted on, but then why should I be consulted? I'm only the mother, the one who looks after him and makes sure he's OK, nothing important really.
So I find myself wondering if I am the parent or if in some weird twist of fate, I've become the child and he's the parent making all the decisions. And if this is the case, when did the power balance shift, because I don't remember giving it permission to change the rules?
When was it my son grew up, was there a particular date and time where the minutes and seconds were counted down until he became a grown up and suddenly able to make decisions all by himself, and why does he need to grow up anyway?
Although, I can see him objecting very strongly to me trying to wrap him in a blanket and push him in a pram at 15 years old.
So, I will have to accept that my fate is now the observer as I watch him go through his life making his own mistakes more and more.
I seemed to have blinked and my fat, chubby cheeked baby has turned into a tall, dark skinned youth with big dark eyes and an uncanny resemblance to my dad.
Whatever happens in his life, I am very proud of him.
Happy 15th Birthday son, xxx