Dating, Dinner and Discipline

Oh dear, it seems that I have become an episode of Qi and will only talk about a single letter, although, if I do every fourth letter, I will get through this a darn sight quicker than Stephen Fry.  In truth, I simple have a set of events that are alliterative, and so provide a very handy title.  What a neat life I must lead?  Regrettable, I cannot claim any such thing

By far the biggest development is gaining an awareness that I am really quiet lonely.  And not a gradual awareness either, more like; bang!  Aware!  I think it had been creeping up on me for some time?  It may be related to losing my father a few weeks ago, although I am on the whole, fine with him dying.  Not through callousness, he had been increasing unwell for a long time, and had absolutely no quality of life in the end.  We all say, about ourselves don’t we, that we wouldn’t want to live like that and would rather go, and so I don’t find myself sad that he is no longer suffering.  However, whatever the philosophy of it, it is one fewer person for me; perhaps that is a component of my new awareness?

I don’t see as much of the people I used to see with regularity.  Things change.  Routines change.  Circumstances change.  It was nice to talk as Florence played, racing her scooter up and down with her friends.  But she doesn’t play outside now; if she did she’d be washed in to the sea.  We all sit in and watch the wind driven rain beat against the windows.  Alone.

Still the nights are getting lighter, the promise of warm evenings is once again coming towards us.  She has outgrown her balance bike.  Ages three to four it says upon it quite clearly, so at three and a month, I’m now looking at proper bikes.  Be good to get her out the house more.

Florence has been showing significant indiscipline lately, and after the last year going so well I was really disappointed.  There didn’t seem to be any clear reason for it, not even cabin fever. Perhaps she was getting it from one of her friends, or perhaps she was missing her granddad?  Gradually I came to realise that I was the most likely source of this new rebellion.  I can be rather hard on her I think, and keep her on a tight rein.  At nursery or the child-minders, where there was less direct control, she took the opportunity to let it out.  I had to look at how I was doing things, and work a better way, and quickly.  All parents find themselves in the situation where they require their child to do something, and to do it now; getting out the door on time; getting in to the bath, etc.  I am not a highly patient person, and also once I decide to do something, it gets done and quickly.  I was applying this regime to her as well.  I would ask her to do something, and if she refused twice in under a minute, then it would be done too her.  It doesn’t take much to realise that she is learning that impatience is the way you get things to happen.  So what do I do?  Because I am her primary carer and have such a rare father daughter relationship, I understand how she works inside and how I can manipulate that.  With a bit of deliberate care, and even some patience, I can persuade her to do the thing I need her to do.  Almost like a trick, I have to convince her that it was her idea; she wanted to do it all along.  I have to allow a bit more time, but really not that much, as Florence is also quick to act once she has made the choice.  We’re a good team.  I’ve never been so proud to be part of anything before.  The trick doesn’t always work, but progress is progress.

I suspect that I had been getting less patient with her as I attempted to maintain the idea that I could cope with whatever came along, while I simultaneously wondered if I could indeed cope, before then realising how lonely I was really feeling.  Florence may be the greatest thing to ever happen to the human race, but she is three and therefore not terribly fulfilling company.  I need a lot more stimulation than she will be able to provide for years to come.  I need an adult.  Or adults; nothing wrong with variety.

I’ve decided that I’m comfortable with the idea of dating.  Dating may not be comfortable with the idea of me.  I’ve been rubbish at is since forever.  You don’t have to read much of this blog to know that small talk and I are total strangers, and that my rationality and practicality are a permanent feature.  I would classify myself as hard work.

I exist in a sea of identical evenings, and struggle to do the things that really should be done.  If Florence wakes me up at 3am, then it seems like a very empty house and a cuddle would be nice.  I have no idea what I want; a companion, a lover, a presence, the knowledge that somewhere there is someone?  The only thing I do know is that I’m not ready for someone to mother Florence.  So darn complicated.  Still I have to start somewhere.

If I’m going to entertain a charming young lady, I really must expand my cooking repertoire.  This needs to be done anyway; Florence and I have a lot pasta in our life.  I know that time pressures lead me to repeatedly make things that are simple and that we both like.  I am working on composing weekly menus to give me a more interesting time in the kitchen, and both of us a more varied diet.

My cooking did have one recent success though, apart from my cakes, which never fail.  I had a very successful dinner with some friends I hadn’t spoken to for two years, after what I believe is called ‘a car crash’.  I didn’t like the way it ended, and now something’s been done about it.  I don’t consider this a new beginning, more an alternate ending.  The director’s cut of a once cherished friendship.  I do feel better for that.

I like having people round in an attempt to fill up the massive sofa I chose to put in the lounge, and ever the rational and practical type, now I have identified, and partly understood the cause and effect of my feelings, I am making plans to counteract and improve my life.  I’m sure both Florence and I will appreciate that.  I’ll try not to leave it two months before I write some more, perhaps even with tales of great things occurring?