Thank the Vodka Gods for Facebook memories

Miss8 has worked out that she can pretend she cant hear me - in a way more mature way than my own lalalala I cant hear youuuu fingers in ears version that I have, until now, relied on when they ask awkward questions.

I can rant and rave, beg and plead, and her single excuse is wait...what? Oh sorry Mum, I didnt hear you...- and I have NO WAY OF PROVING OTHERWISE....

Despite being a people-pleaser - especially an adult-pleaser - she has worked out that theres more kudos in saving her adult-pleasing for teachers.

Shes also worked out that Im entirely embarrassing, as far as parents go.

I was all professional, work mode, at the school cross country the other week - blow me down if one of my besties (a parent volunteer), didnt have to convince me that, it was in fact my Miss8 (and not another student) coming down the straight - winning.

I completely lost my professional work persona shit and stood in the middle of the finish line, arms wide open, in full staff uniform, screaming her name....

....and she very obviously veered to the right, with a look of horror.

So I regained my staff persona and pretended I did not see her cross the finish line first, until she had to report to me for her official finishing position, and I ripped her off the ground and squeezed the living crap out of her little body.

She loved it, and she hugged me back - but only after checking that nobody else was watching...

Thank the Vodka Gods for Facebook memories....

For the first time ever, Ive found myself genuinely reminiscing over Facebook You posted this XXX years ago....pics of the kids.

As opposed to continuing down to the latest cocktail / DIY / food / celeb post.

All that professing of unconditional love over the years has come back to bite me in the arse.

They know theyve got me. That they ve got the upper hand.

This is unfamiliar territory.

Im used to being the unquestioned centre of their everything.

Clearly, Im going to have to work out what their kryptonite is, and regain the prized power position / unconditional love and respect.

FYI....it was their random refusal of my previously loved sneaky veg soup that actually prompted this post.

It sent me into a tail spin of reflection, on listening to their negotiations over dinner / bed times / upcoming school holidays.

They werent remotely interested in pleasing me, listening to my firm insistence that they loved my soup and it would make them strong / healthy / awesome.

But, whatever, the point is - they are clearly turning into manipulative little a-holes (apple, tree, obviously).

And I've lost the it factor....I dont have IT anymore....