Bet half of you reading are too young or conversely too decrepid to remember those Adrian Mole books but they were truly pioneers of their time. Touched on all kinds of taboo subjects (taboo because our parents were too embarrassed to talk about them rather than because there was anything perverse or shameful involved). They were the best sex education ever. Unlike my Catholic school Sex Ed class which involved discussions on the evolution of amoeba in to various fish and then to monkeys, a truly absurd concept in my opinion and even more absurd that we were taught it in a Catholic School. Whatever happened to good old Adam and Eve and original sin? That really is one confused religion.
Back to the diaries and their relevance.
When I was sixteen or seventeen, I can't quite recall, I remember having a huge fall out with my mum because she had challenged me about something I'd done (probably illegal) which she could only have known about from reading my diary. Back then I was an avid journal keeper and would write practically every day. Anyway, suitably enraged and understandably feeling completely violated I decided that no-one would ever read them again and promptly got every last scrap I had written and lobbed it in the bin.
Two days ago I received a message from my mum via facebook. It went a little like this:-
"Bambi, many years ago I found all of your diaries and lots of other personal stuff, thrown out in the dustbin. I decided to rescue them so that one day I could give it all back to you......then a few days ago I was clearing the loft and found the bag with them in......shall I bring it when I'm next over?"
So twenty years after throwing my memories away (and probably the twenty years it took my mum to read them all!!) I have my diaries back in my possession (big thanks ma) - a carrier bag stuffed to the brim of papers scrawled with teenage Bambi babble. For those of you who think my blog is a laugh, I can assure you in comedic value this pales in comparison. Think Vicky Pollard crossed with Catherine Tate's Lauren Cooper mixed with a spot of Harry Enfield's Kevin and you have something of a clue as to what I sound like. A strange cross breed of suicidal lovestruck chav-lette. Or Brossette if I remember correctly the contemporary name for us then.
It is ironic is that I so frequently spend my time mocking Euan for dropping his H's, making statements like "Eeeem gooooing up tarrrrn" and "ain it" yet my writings at a similar age are nothing but. There are hints of an intelligence somewhere hidden deep beneath the "inits" and "whatevers" but it is very well buried. And so it gives me hope. Whilst Euan may appear to be a towny chav-u-like right now, with a bit of luck and fair weather he too could end up like me. A fat manic depressive who's main form of socialising is via Facebook. Brilliant.
Hopefully Euan will be far more than that. We have just returned from the County Cup Final where his team won convincingly (5 - 1) and he had a cracking game. I am now keeping my fingers, toes, legs, eyes and anything else that will do it crossed in the hope that he can be my meal ticket to waggamammadom. I joke of course, but watching him I did feel a great sense of his ability, not just at football, but as a person....he is a wonderful boy and should have an amazing, happy, fulfilled life ahead of him. Which is exactly what I wish for all of my children.
And which is exactly why I will most definitely be doing what my I suspect my mother did and having a good nose where I shouldn't be every now and again just to make sure they are behaving!
It IS one of those awful dilemmas......trustworthinesss. I have always been pleased with my ability to BE trustworthy, anything said to me in confidence STAYS confidential, I still have some secrets shared with me from 30 years ago, never divulged.
ReplyDeleteI "minded" a friends diaries for years and was never tempted to peek, not once.
With your children it is a double-edged dilemma though. Knowing what a Loop-de-Loop I was as a teenager I was afraid of what pickles my own may get into and, yes, took peeks when I felt it was necessary ( secretive behaviour/ mood swings/ avoidance in the offspring ). Felt unable to do it differently I'm afraid.
I actually DIDN'T read ALL of the stuff though after I retrieved it, only re-read some letters from girls Dad to them, just for the craic. I suppose at that juncture I felt Bambi was making herself known to me and more independent anyway.
Emphasises the importance of Journal keeping.......keeps us in touch with ourselves.
Shame more politicians don't publish theirs BEFORE they retire.....or maybe that's why they don't....we'd be scooting their back-ends out the door if we knew what they were REALLY thinking.....the blackguards.