Proper Bastard

The other week I was told that my dad had altzeimers & dementia, not by the family of course but by a third party. It gets you thinking doesn’t it? I often toy with the idea of taking Darwin to see that side of the family but I always defer, I don’t think they will get any enjoyment out of it and I don’t think Darwin would enjoy it too.

I question myself about why I defer but having a child myself reiterates why I think I’m right. I don’t think I had a particularly troublesome upbringing but I feel like I was an unwanted burden for the majority of the time I was at home. Like me Darwin spends a lot of his time in his bedroom but the difference is we want him to spend more time with us and feel blessed whenever he wants to spend time with us, I was made to live in my bedroom. I love my son and tell him regularly, I know that he is just another human just like me and this is the start of his journey and I’m only here to help and encourage him on his journey, and I feel so lucky to be part of it.

One the main differences between mine and his upbringing is that we like to nurture and encourage him, I grew up with the constant reminder that children should be seen and not heard, should respect their elders and got a clout when my Step Mother thought it was necessary. I lived in mild fear.

We have in the past let Darwin stop at Kerry’s mums and he’s had a wonderful time. When I think would I ever have let Darwin stay with my parents it makes me shiver.

We like Darwin to express himself and we want him to be whatever he wants to be, we want him to be happy. We also want him to be respectful to others and caring, and of course he often needs pointing in the right direction but whenever we do this we always do it and reflect afterwards.

We take a mild approach to swearing, we have to as you can’t unlearn swears can you? We have to teach that there is a time and place but beyond that anything (ish) goes. Now he swears as a form of vocal expression and to make people laugh.

Last week when he got out of the bath, as per usual there was a lot of water on the bathroom floor. “Go to the wash basket and get the towel I’ve just put in it. You can use this to mop the water up” Kerry said. “F*ck off” he replied “you’ve probably wiped your t*ts on that!”. Another time during a kick about with his mum in the field he called her a ‘Fat b*tch’ (Mind you she was calling him a ‘Little f*cker’), and the other day when I was asking him how his foot was that had sustained a rope burn he said, “it’s a proper b*astard Dad”. If I had said those words at his age my step Mother would have attacked me with a hammer.