Freak. Me. Out.

My thinking this week has gone like this:

"Oh, hubby needs a new car.

Yes, certainly does.

The old one is literally falling apart at the seams.

So we need a little run around for city driving. For his work.

Needs 4 doors though. Better for the kids getting in and out when they use the car.

Which model? Which is best for the environment?

New or second hand?

Most importantly- what colour?

Does it need to beep going backwards? Beep when you go overspeed?

Beep when you get another grey hair?

Well, we want it to last a long. long time.

Really, we don't want the super-zippy model-

'cos this will be the car that we will be teaching our kids to drive in."

...

...

...

Sorry?

Say that again?

This will be the car that we will be teaching our kids to drive in.

O.M.G.

(yesterdaytodaytomorrow-michellet.blogspot.com)

My oldest is nearly 8.

Another 8 years and yep, he will be learning to drive.

Given how fast the past 8 years have gone,

I can honestly say I find the time line a little unsettling.

I am still stopping him from using words and phrases like "stupid"

and "poo poo head" (losing the battle I must say) 

Yet it will be no time at all that I will probably be relieved that he is only using the "s" word

and not the "f" or "c" word.

I am telling him now that those "girl germs" that he finds so repulsive now

will be the cause of his teenage broken heart

(and some other, dare I say nicer feelings)

in the future.

I feel like I have spent the best part of 8 years getting him to eat solids (even green vegetable ones),

aim when using the toilet and believe in Santa and the Tooth Fairy.

In another 8 years, all that hard work will be out the window.

I am telling him...no, daddy is telling him a few boy basics.

I can't even think about male teenage hygiene without feeling faint
and wondering if there is some adult education course that would cover such things.

Then there are those other teenage things...

like hormones, a belief in their own immortality,

hormones, peer pressure, hormones, not wanting to acknowledge their parents' existance,...

In 8 years, my first baby will be trying to start making decisions

as to which direction he wants to go with the rest of his life.

I don't think that I read the fine print of parenthood

before getting myself up the duff.

The fine print might well have told me how fast life would  move

once children were involved.

It might also well have told me that I would be signing up

to give driving lessons.

Well and truly freaked out.

(hutnyk.wordpress.com)