The Chronicles of Grand Pop Part One: Roped in for a blog….

Part One: Roped in for a blog….

I didn’t really understand what I was letting myself in for when I committed to “writing  a blog”……..truth be told I didn’t, and still don’t really know what a blog is. Yep, that’s me categorised already …..a sexagenarian baby boomer in denial of old age desperately holding on to hair, teeth and faculties!

Come to think of I didn’t actually commit to doing it at all. My daughter, now also the mother of my year and a bit year old grandson got me into this. I use the term “year and a bit” deliberately. It’s my token protest to all these young mums with whom I now have frequent contact who know the age of their prodigy to the millisecond, conduct microscopic examination of the poo nappy checking colour, consistency and bouquet. Don’t even start me on HFM, the concern that that each tiny blemish is the dreaded hand, foot and mouth disease……what the heck is that anyway? I’m pretty sure it wasn’t around in the old days …..we had real stuff to inoculate against like polio, whooping cough, small pox and the like.

Anyway I digress, back to my non commitment to this gig…..I’m pretty sure I said “I’ll think about it” which to my daughters innovative mind meant “I know I can talk him into it”!

So what’s changed in 30 years….she has been wrapping me around her little finger from embryo times. In the battle of wills I’ve always run a distant second but I console myself in the reassuring knowledge that I’m not Robinson Crusoe in the matter of father/daughter relationships!

 A couple of examples of dominated dad syndrome come to mind. Probably the one we most commonly laugh about still was the two year old toddler sock drama…..basically I wanted her to wear them and she didn’t. Now with the hindsight of age and wisdom I realise that the issue wasn’t up there with the Kennedy assassination, the first moon landing or Bob Hawke sinking a yard of piss in 3 seconds……but to me if became a matter of personal pride, honour and parental control. Oh the battles we had, I invented new wrestling holds to pin her down to get those pretty little socks on. You can guess the result of course, as soon as she was released from my Indian death lock, off came the socks……Yep, you got it……another day at kindi sans socks. In the battle of the wills its not looking good for dad!

Another time comes to mind……the giant 72 metre Gloucester tree in the National Park in Pemberton has been scaled by a 4 year old Tom boy. I’m pretty sure I’d be bunking with Ben in Hakea these days for child cruelty and neglect for letting the little sod climb the thing. There was no way myself and her elder brother were not going to climb it and equally in the 4 year olds mind there was no way we were doing it without her. Not the wisest move I’ve made but it’s like riding a scooter in Bali…..if you hop on your Garuda back to Perth intact, it was great and everyone should do it….if you’ve got grazed knees, bandaged elbows and bruised pride you realise what a twat you were!

Anyway, getting back to the point…..my daughter has once again perpetrated an act of reverse parental domination……….so here endeth the first blog.

Think I’ll end with one of my many soapbox philosophies……..some of which are deep and meaningful with a modicum of common sense. The three best things we can give our children are love, direction and discipline. If you think about it and elaborate on each of these items in all aspects and stages of their lives you have pretty well got it covered.

parcel

2 Comments

Tan & Reev

7 years ago

All so relatable!! Love this!

Katie

7 years ago

As a daughter who has perfected the art of reverse parental domination and also has a "year and a big year old" I can totally relate to all of the above!!! Classic!

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