A List of things that come back to haunt us.

Yesterdays assignment for the Writing 101 course I am doing is to write a list. I was going to write out a new list of things that I have learnt but I decided to skip back through other lists that I have written and then I decided that instead of writing a new one, I would instead use an old one that I had written. 
In my first writing 101 post; I write because, I talked about my childhood and how it became the reason I write. This post that I have pulled from my archives is probably one of my favourite posts to date, its a list that I wrote back when this blog was just a baby, it was called What goes around, comes around. I figured, for all the right reasons, I should share this again, it shows my appreciation for my Mother, regardless of how things changed and how they turned out… here goes… I might even add in a few more things to this list…

What goes around comes around…

Do our parents look back on our time as children and remember it as fondly as we do?
Probably, but they’ve forgotten what we’re currently experiencing as parents ourselves.
Let’s ask ourselves a question, when was the last time we apologised to our parents for our childhood selves?

Here’s a few things I feel I need to apologise for.

I’m sorry mum, for…

Demanding to watch the same movie over and over,

I never realised why you always looked so anguished when I demanded to watch my little pony for the seventh time in one day, I understand now that no matter how much I loved watching those colourful equestrians galloping around singing the Dinah song, it wasn’t good for you. I can imagine now, how miffed you must have been after my bedtime when you would still be singing “what are we going to do about Dinah? Dinah’s driving me wild!”

Having so many soft toys,

They really are pointless aren’t they!
Remembering back to the two bed terraced house, I can imagine how frustrating it must have been to try and find a home for all those fruit shaped stuffed toys I insisted on collecting.

The Smurfs CD.

We all love a good soundtrack but let’s be honest, it wasn’t fun for you to have to listen to the smurfs singing ‘I’ve got a little puppy’ over and over, while I make up a dance routine and make you listen to it again while I preform my SHOW.

Chewing with my mouth open,

Thanks for evil-looking that out one of me. That is all.

Staying calm when I woke you up at early hours by playing with my blocks.

Oh the noise! The time of day!
How you didn’t beat me with a wooden stick I will never know.

Not Rewinding the videos,

Words cannot express the gratitude I have for DVD’s, I can only imagine how it must have felt knowing you’d have to rewind my video’s over and over again because I NEVER did it.

For not having an internal alarm clock,

I am yet to discover what it’s like to have to wake a sleeping child, feed them, dress them and walk them to school before 8.30 in the morning.
You brave, brave woman. I already dread what is about to begin for me this coming September. I get it now.

For being such a muck-magnet

I used to wonder why my clothes were never cleaned as often as I wanted to wear them. Two words, Mount doom, that is all.
Wanting waist length hair,

Your poor wrists. Those plaits you did every night before bedtime, I can’t say I blame you, I still throw tantrums when my hair is knotty.

For making you count the crossovers on the previously mentioned bed time plaits.

Every time. Without fail, you counted all of them, out loud, every night. Thank you.

*For laughing at you when you crossed your legs to cough.

Honestly, I really am sorry for laughing. Have no fear, Mum, I am paying for this, I even have to cross my legs when I laugh these days so I’m, uhh, not laughing anymore!

*For using my shoes as bike brakes.

This was just not cool, man.

*For stealing your good craft supplies and consequently ruining them,

Really, I didn’t know back then how precious a new packet of felt tips are to a Crafty Mummy, I’m sorry for pushing in all your lovely new nibs, dropping all your expensive pencils and shattering the leads (so that they break when you sharpen them) and cutting my way through all your lovely pads full of pretty paper like the destructive little shit that I was. I get it now.

*For asking you to share all your secret foods.

I could never quite grasp why you kept your Galaxy Ripples tucked up on the top shelf of the highest cupboard in the kitchen. No, really, I truly am sorry. I am all to familiar with the grief of giving your last bite of  a bar to your small child who is moaning at you while salivating all over your clean jeans…

*And lastly, I apologise for knocking over your ornaments.

I remember how pretty my living room looked before I had to pack away all my ornaments too. I miss my ornaments, I’m sorry.

As always, thanks for reading. How about you, do you remember driving your parents around the bend too? Has Karma got you too? Sound off in the comments!


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