A Humdrum Mum

Six year ago, I  wrote about love bombing  and this week, I read about it again in Psychologies magazine. A quick Google search showed up quite a few worrying article involving love bombing and adults; The Sun called it " a controversial tactic that often starts off with a predator showering their victim with affection" (but that is The Sun...). I'm sure for children it's still OK? Psychologies magazine obviously does. Its "inventor", Oliver James (author of They F*** You Up ), calls it a way of resetting your child's emotional thermostat, with a night/weekend of time alone with them, where they dictate what is (or isn't) done. This unlimited love and control is then replicated afterwards with shorter, more frequent bombs. That mini love bombing is what I referred to when I wrote about it, when Master Humdrum was six (he's now 12).  I'd quite like to revisit this for a tweenager. I do realise that he might well say I have to play Fortn...

Considering we dragged Master Humdrum out of his pit to walk with us on this Saturday morning, when he ended up saying it was the best walk he'd been on, we were surprised. He did qualify this by adding he in no way enjoyed it, but that it was better than previous walks. (I suspect he is still cross with Glynn for making him walk in the snow with inappropriate shoes.) What are the Master's criteria for a good walk, I hear you ask? Easy. Short (4 miles); flat; good weather; punctuated by good food. So today ticked all those boxes. We learned a little about the history of Portchester Castle  (3rd century castle built on the site of a Roman fort), spied the aircraft carrier in the dockyard, listened to endless tales of how the Master won a Fortnite game and before we turned back, enjoyed a slap up breakfast at Salt Cafe . 

My 12 year old son has been playing this free online game for a month or so now. As with all other fads, we assume it's self-limiting - just like collecting Match Attax or Pokemon cards, playing Pokemon, playing Fifa, buying Fifa points, playing Futdraft on his phone... the list goes on and each fad is replaced by a new one. What will replace Fortnite? Lighter evenings and playing out I hope! I alternately feel guilty and not so guilty letting him play. Here's my list of pros and cons. Pros Winter evenings . I'm holding out for lighter evenings so he can get back out on his bike again. In the meantime, this stops the "I'm bored" routine - nothing wrong with that from time to time! Only child . I can't arrange "play dates" all the time, and the way he plays in a party with three of his mates is almost like having them round to play, but without the waiting on them with snacks and drinks. I do laugh when I hear him giggling, or shriekin...

It was one of those days when plans changed at the last minute. We were up and ready to leave at 8.15 on a Sunday morning for football, possibly the first game for a good few weeks, when we get the text - cancelled! What to do? Well breakfast first at The Parade Tearooms , followed by a random walk along the shoreline at Warsash. Mr Humdrum had been around here before, but we hadn't. We chose the shoreline over the nature reserve (will have to return for that), which overlooks Hamble. There is a spit which makes for a nice brisk walk there and back. On the way, we discovered a training establishment with lifeboards and davits on the pier head. Sheet-glass ice at the water's edge made for interest by both Messrs Humdrum. Master Humdrum just liked smashing them with big rocks and stones. Mr Humdrum liked the noise and so recorded the smashing!

This was a walk routed out by Mr Humdrum on his phone, not really taking into account that walking on sludge and in snow is like walking on sand, not that easy, thus affecting the time it took! However it was a great walk, with deer, country fields, posh houses with tennis courts, disused railway lines (of course now I've got Still Ill by The Smiths in my head) and of course, lots of snow. Master Humdrum did wear the wrong shoes and had wet feet for the majority of the journey! We set off in a southerly direction at Wickham at the station car park, crossed over the A32, walked up quite a few country lanes, including hills, which we in Portsmouth are not used to! We traversed a few fields and crossed back over the A32 again, up to Hundred Acre Wood, where we stopped for a quick snack (a Tunnocks snowball no less) and down through to the Wickham station car park again, via a lovely pub lunch at The Roebuck . Admittedly we were a little stiff and cold after the pub lunch, ...

Please stop telling me I look tired. I’m actually a lot less tired than last week. This week, I’m aiming to go to bed way earlier than last week. I mean 11pm rather than midnight. Now that I’ve finished Twin Peaks The Reboot (and I was nearly as peed off as I was when Pamela Ewing popped out of the shower to find her Atlantis hubby still alive in bed), there isn’t as much to keep me up.  Please stop telling me I look tired. I’m drinking nearly enough, and I mean water not prosecco. I’ve realised that drinking prosecco (or just alcohol in general) does give me bags in the mornings, but I haven’t drunk much since that fondue party. (That was only two weeks ago. I am trying.)  Please stop telling me I look tired. I’ve always been a late turner-in-er. I burned my duvet when I was young, reading Agatha Christie books after lights-out. I come alive at around 10pm. Well, this isn’t so true now I’m getting older, but once I’ve gone upstairs, I wake up again even if I was comatos...

I suppose it started with a group walk in Hambledon late last year. A friend organised a walk for four of us, we walked it, she said she'd organise a monthly one, I missed the last, bought some new walking "trainer/boots" but I was hooked. For exercise, I try to run. When I say try, I mean that I both try to fit in runs during the week and I also actually try to run. I shuffle. But I can run, I can run/walk a 5K. But if there's an excuse not to, I will find it. In February half-term, I caught a cold and as is normal with me, I always suffer with my sinuses. It seemed that walking was the only thing that kept the cold at bay! (Well that and the hot tub from my earlier holiday in half-term!) I lived in those walking shoes, and I have just about since. Maybe this is the new exercise for me? Who knows. Last week, on our second big walk, there were three of us. Arrangements made by A well in advance were forgotten and she changed them last minute! It was a beautiful cris...