I can tell my children are growing up. At least the hurly burly of travelling still excites them and they don't yawn at the thought of another museum. It is funny I look back and see I had to squeeze their education in between the ages of 8 and 15, when luckily they did as they were told. My youngest said the other day, "I hated Paris, but thank goodness my brother liked Versailles because I had to write about it at school, and I got an A because of it".
I expect them to look excited by visiting a gallery to see Picasso, the eldest didn't like his work, but preferred Gainsborough and Winterhalter, that caught me out, I thought what did he paint?, luckily I was quickly told, "Empress Sissy".
I am lucky, one loves the Opera and singing so I can go and see anything I like, the only problem is he usually says " Can I take Ben?" and I am again excluded, or he goes with one of my best friends who is dying to go. I could be sad, but it makes me smile.
This morning the eldest came into my room and said he had no T shirts that weren't black. That the ones he had were his brothers. Two months ago they seemed to like black and so indeed probably all of them were that colour. Off I went to get him some new ones. He is rather natty and although he never asks for anything expensive I tend to spoil him. I sort of buy the clothes I would like to wear if I were a man. The only thing is then I get home and my ex husband turns to the boys and says "You have to be sure of your sexuality to wear that" I think he is just jealous he can't wear them..
The youngest says " Daddy you haven't changed your clothes since 1984 when you met Mummy" and gets away with his cheeky ways, all slinky hips and chain belts . Oh I love my children, as I should.
They are still babies when it comes to cutting their hair. It is as if it were gold, and not to be touched.. bushy and straggly they are happy to be.
and in another area at least its me who does the swearing...