A DAD'S LIFE:The lack of structure is no problem to the children, writes ADAM BROPHY
ABOUT TWO weeks into the school holidays, about now, the vagueness becomes an issue. The kids don’t know what time to go to bed, what time to get up, whether they should be eating curry in the morning or trifle for lunch. It’s about now, each year, I realise the wonderfully constructive nature of the school bell.
The lack of structure is no bother to them. They eat when they’re hungry and sleep when they’re tired. We provide them with warmth and shelter, so their basic needs are met. This is the summer, it’s supposed to have that no-walls feel, so when they look back on it from their grown-up selves’ perspective they will know what it was like to roam free.
No, it’s not a bother to them, but it proves problematic to their parents. We’re fine on the practicalities. We can work our schedules around their requirements. The kids are at an age where they don’t need tunnel-vision attention, their requirements usually involve friends, beaches or ponies, all of which are easy enough to provide in conjunction with other parents. The difficulties arise due to fuzzy brain syndrome which accompanies this lack of any real schedule.
Here’s a basic example. It’s Friday night, 9pm, and I’m bringing the wife’s car for an NCT re-test. There are a couple of things to take into account within that statement. The first is that Friday night is a time when most people are in the midst of winding down at the end of a week. But I’m travelling 20 miles to an NCT test centre. As I pootle along, stuck behind a tractor driven by what appears to be an 11-year-old boy blathering on his mobile, this is my first gripe.
The second relates to the fact that this is a re-test. In our house, there is no such thing as getting something out of the way at the first attempt. Everything is approached in as haphazard a way as possible so that what should be taken care of with one ridiculous Friday night trip requires a minimum of two instead, at a cost double the original quoted. I’m cursing whatever stupid rod was worn to the nub and had to be replaced for the re-test that has me eyeballing the back of this child-driver’s head, his dumbass tractor and poxy mobile phone.
Oh yes, the temper is rising now, the indignation approaching combustion as the third factor bursts into the frontal temporal lobe. The damn re-test isn’t even for me. It’s the wife’s problem. But because all things car related (tax, insurance, repairs, NCT) fall under the man umbrella (so much for the postgrad in women’s studies), she’s tucked up on the couch with the brats and a pack of Kettle chips while I peruse tractor driver. He is now picking his ear and still refusing to pull over. I say it to myself again as the self-pity approaches overload: it’s not even my NCT.
So why am I driving my car, not hers? Oh come on, you spanner.
Backtrack five miles, scream through door, retrieve correct keys, hit road again. Arrive at NCT centre just as they pull the shutters. Eat an additional payment and prepare myself for another late night trip when I should be carousing in a city hotspot.
That’s fuzzy brain syndrome. It’s not pretty.
Other typical symptoms include going to the supermarket for milk and bread, and returning with dog food, a DVD and fish cakes. You may also find yourself wandering round town with your T-shirt on inside out, upending your takeaway coffee into your lap when you realise how daft you look. On occasion, you will find yourself staring at the TV, wondering how come the house is so quiet and jump to your feet when you remember you left the kids at the swimming pool.
There’s a lot of startled jumping to feet with fuzzy brain syndrome. I put it down to the fact that for these couple of months I no longer have to dress for anyone. Minding kids and working from home means I rarely have to worry about a shirt and tie, but the school run requires me to be clothed and shod and not stink. It is a starting point in a scattered existence. Take it away and anarchy ensues.
We try to impose some rules on the kids, more to have a sense of structure for ourselves than anything else, but they know if they wait something out for long enough we will invariably forget what our original ruling was. They can get away with anything because they have the benefit of time on their hands.
Time and our fuzzy brains.