Sitting at work yesterday thinking about the problem child and how to be a better mother – this year. All the opportunities you don’t get in public high school. Talking to a Czech friend about the things learnt in Czech high school when she was young (35 years ago) – Henry the 8th’s six wives, the history of the Persian Empire, Ghengis Khan, the main exports of Brazil…all the things I bet Mr F won’t have a clue about by the time he shoots out into the world. So Mr F says, why should I know these things. I dunno. Except somehow that the more you know – even about useless stuff – the more you have to build on. It’s all ‘background’ and grist for ideas. Or maybe just adds colour and depth to life – the fact that you have a past, and an environment, and maybe the more past and the more environment, the richer your life can be.
So how to achieve this for them? Travel, maybe. Immersion experiences – science camps, bush tucker weekends…movies, books. Community service activities. Anything to get away from the x-box.
Hairy Chest is in Nigeria for two weeks – that’ll be a month apart, including my hols. I think about him aad us a fair bit. What am I going to do with him? Does he really love me? Is this enough? Even if we loved each other, could I bear a lifetime of no appreciable communication, except on the subject of aches and pains, IT, religion – for the sake of no conflict. Freedom and a conflict-free relationship is worth a lot but I don’t know that it’s worth that.