Pass me an olive.

At the moment I am deep in study land, wrestling with a cultural 2000 word essay which lectures have included the great masculine renunciation, the great masculine renunciation – renounced, the decline of haute couture, bubble up and trickle down diffusion, post modernity, what is post modernism anyway? globalisation, nation and ethnicity and consuming fashion and that’s just up to week 5. There are many more topics to consider to go into the essay in the next few weeks. 
So needless to say, I haven’t been taking pretty pictures of London, I’ve also been wrestling with adobe illustrator, photoshop and indesign, as well as my tailoring and trend and brand research. 
So when I rang the boys about a problem on the computer, I thought I sensed that they were in the study working hard on my behalf, when son no.1 got his new ipad working and I saw they were laying on the bed chatting to me.  (it sounded like they were working!)
 
 It made me laugh, from birth we have used our bed as a landing board for boisterous boys to wrestle on, play on, lay on and chat.  To read books with and generally all of family life has been conducted whilst lying on our beds, it was certainly (and intentionally) a different way of life to the one I had grown up in, where we were not allowed into our parents bedroom. The boys liked the analogy of our lives to Roman’s laying discussing the order of the day and we often solved problems and upsets and difficulties that the boys were experiencing as well as just having family time and just gossiping and laughing.
I always wondered when it would end, if the boys would naturally go off and not bother to come back to the nest to talk and relax and how that transition would occur.  I wondered whether it should occur for the sake of child psychology and whether it was a bit weird – had I swung to far the other way.  (of course we kept our modesty) In the end I just decided to let it be what it was, our family.
At Christmas I was laying in bed when a 6ft odd son no.2 bounced onto the bed beside me, we hadn’t seen each other for months, and lay down for a chat. 
At the time, he breathed a deep and happy sigh, and so did I, it was then I knew, 
 the decision making.
‘yep we did okay’

2 thoughts on “Pass me an olive.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s