It’s All About The Pollock

So, it was all down to a Pollock.  And then it was over. Amazing really that a few fishermen could hold the country to ransom.  One does wonder looking at those poor lorries stuck in Dover   what the future might have held for us with no deal.  I guess Boris realised he would have been hung drawn and quartered if he didn’t succeed with a deal.  What amazes me is the sheer arrogance  that we British   —   scrub that we  —   that some Brits  haven’t quite grasped yet that we are no longer an Empire. And indeed ‘going it alone’ isn’t an option. 

But then there are the Marcus Rashford’s.  I have  just watched a BBC news documentary on Marcus Rashford’s child poverty campaign and it reinforced my belief  that we parents have a  huge responsibility on ensuring that our children have decent values.  Certainly, Marcus’s mother did a good job. There he is, successful, rich and yet compassionate and remembering from where he came.  I am in awe.

Marcus Rashford says 'time is now' to end child food poverty

It  made me reflect on my own parenting and while I have many faults I  think I have  succeeded in rearing 3 thoughtful caring boys.  My  parents worked tirelessly  for their community. My mother was forever visiting and caring for those less fortunate and my father never refused a request for help sometimes to his detriment. We  bought up our  children in the same vein.

Admittedly things went a bit awry in the teenage years. I remember being  in   disbelief when other parents remarked on how well behaved the boys were. Excuse me? Are you talking about my children? The ones that squabble, fight and compete incessantly with each other. That’s not fair, why don’t I get some of that ‘niceness’.  It would seem as if they couldn’t wait to get home so they could explode and scream at  mom!. Of course, it wasn’t a conscious process at all and wasn’t intended to hurt  me. Children act out at home because they know that they can get away with it. Home is their safe place. A place where they  feel secure and can show their ugliest behaviour…because they know we will  still love them and that they will still get their needs met even if they act out.

 I guess it is the same for us adults. We have arguments with our partners and say things which we wouldn’t dare to say outside – yes we save our worst behaviour for the ones we love most.

It got me thinking about whether  babies are born with a natural empathy for others, whether some have a more inert  tendency towards empathy than others.  Did in fact Hitler or Stalin or Pol Pot have empathy at birth? Recent research reports that  even very young babies have the capacity for empathy and  experiments have shown that   hearing other babies cry  can trigger of this empathy. That said  while children’s empathy seems inborn,  this gift that is ours as parents and as  a society  can be lost  depending on how we react to these earliest overtures.

And apropos of absolutely nothing I think I am becoming more bonkers – becoming I hear you say. The lady who talks to spoons! Well if you had been in bed with me last night you might be thinking that I am definitely sinking. I am a dreamer, and not just any dreamer but a  dreamer par excellence. My nights are full of adventure and intrigue  – what I get up to in my dreams is quite beyond comprehension. And when I wake  in the morning I am  astonished at what I must have been going through while asleep. No wonder I am exhausted. But last night was a first.  I started dreaming before I got to sleep. Yes really.   I pinched myself to see if I was awake and yes I was and yes I had been dreaming. I guess the dreams just  got impatient and couldn’t wait until I was asleep to start their fun. I guess I have mum to thank for this. Yes I inherited her great skin but I also inherited her nuttiness.

Abigail's Dream Adventures Episode 1 - YouTube

Just as well that I have fun at night because there is certainly no fun happening anywhere else in my life.  It is all getting a bit weary  here in London.

“Let’s be careful out there”

Author: ladyserendipidy

Journalist, event planner, mother, animal lover, not very good bridge or scrabble player, hopeless housekeeper, ex social worker, radio producer, tv executive, hater of almost all insects especially the eight legged ones. And if I am ever allowed out of my house, intrepid traveler.

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