It started when teenage “diva” came home with a paper from her teacher, about applying for a writer’s camp, this summer. She let me know that she had been chosen to do this and that her teacher had told her, she would be perfect for it. A camp, 622 kilometers from here, a camp for 15-18 year-olds, and the only supervision, being that of the authors that would teach at the camp. All sorts of warning lamps went off in my body. My 15-year-old daughter, who gets very influenced by peers, going off on the train by herself to Stockholm and then taking whatever transport needed to get to the island, where the camp is to be held. Right! Don’t think so! Not only is such a long trip on her own, at that age, not advisable. My thoughts also went to church, where mixed-gender-camps do not exist and where there are chaperones at everything, concerning this age group. Strict dress codes at all times. I went in on the organization’s home page and saw all these teenage boys on a photo, from the class setting, them sitting there in hoodies, caps on their heads and I just thought, “no way”. The applicants will be from all over Scandinavia. It said nothing about gender quota. Who will share room with whom. And it talked about all the fun activities, in all the spare time, like going swimming in the Baltic Sea. So, you have a bunch of teenagers, far away from home, no real adult supervision, alcohol will flow, romances will occur and you name what. T. heard it all, coming from work and just said “NO!”. But all the diva heard was, ME! I must have influenced her father. I am the evil one. I am the party pooper. She who was chosen!!! She screamed at me. “I AM A GROWN UP!” She yelled so all of our village could hear it. “MY TEACHER THINKS I AM OLD ENOUGH!” Then she ripped the application forms and stormed upstairs while I wrote a thank you note to her teacher’s e-mail address. Her teacher soon answered and told me the truth. She had talked about the camp in general and interested pupils could come up and fetch application forms and ten or something, did. I had told her my view-point, in my mail, and she said that she totally agreed with me which was a relief and she also agreed, that there will be other opportunities for “the diva” in the future. Herself only having four little boys, said that she has no idea what teenage daughters are like, but she appreciated that I told her what the aftermath of the application distribution was. We agreed that she would not talk further about it in class. My daughter knows nothing about me knowing the truth! She knows nothing about my e-mails back and forth, with her teacher. And she kept silent, till the day when “Sparky” got scared of the shadows, in our house. When we all needed to make him feel safe again. THEN, she spoke to me again. 5 days later!
He just went potty one day. Weeks earlier, he had watched “The Bridge to Terabithia”. Every day for an entire week, he watched this and loved it. At his tender age of 4, he of course did not understand a lot of it, but he seemed fine. Till the one day when the sun shone in to our house and the telephone company started to dig holes around our area, for broadband. The combination of unusual sounds and the shadows, made “Sparky” petrified. He became like a leech, didn’t dare to be a millimeter away from me. Almost crawled in to the fridge when I searched for a cheese in there, because he did not dare to stand beside me, without eye-contact! He screamed for his dad, he screamed and wanted us to drive off to fetch his brothers and by so doing, leaving our awful scary house. That evening, we all had to re-assure him that all rooms were safe. He did not believe us. Since then, he sleeps beside me in bed, and I don’t sleep at all, getting overheated and having his legs and knees in my stomach, over my neck or wherever… (This is why there has been no posts for a while.) I have to sleep from 9:00-11:50 instead, when he is at pre-school. He no longer wants to see films with humans in them. Now it is only “Thomas the Tank Engine”, “Postman Pat”, “Brum”, all the SWEET films we have. Nothing scary! I can’t watch anything remotely scary on TV. He even gets scared of “Emmerdale”, since one woman in there screamed at her husband! Poor baby! So I read a lot!!!! A LOT! It’s brought something good with it in other words.
But “the diva’s” compassion for her brother, only lasted two days, in regards to me. Soon enough, she would not talk to me again. The dead silence was back, from before. This time, it has to do with the fact that she thinks that I am stupid. She has been called to an interview about the gymnasium program, she has applied to. They only accept people who are genuinely interested since they spend a lot of money on their students. It’s the same sort of program that Daniel is in, but in another field. His program is the History program and only one school in Sweden offers it, and all the students were interviewed to see that they had a genuine interest beyond the normal, in history. She is trying to get in to a program for people having an abnormal interest in film and literature. Also only available in one town in Sweden, at one school! At Daniel’s school actually. But she thinks that her notification of acceptance is it. That she got in on her grades. But I have told her, that it is just preliminaryacceptance. She has to go to the interview and answer the questions she has received in advance, so that she can prepare, and then she also has to get good final grades. But I am stupid! I know nothing. And then on top of that, she comes home with a paper I needed to fill out, about their school trip. They have organized discos for the younger classes, sold bread and cakes etc. to earn enough money for a school journey. They only got enough for a three-day camping trip. And their ordinary teacher, has gone on paternity leave for 6 months. His German substitute, has declared that at 18:00 he wants to go in to his tent, pull down the zipper and have nothing more to do with the pupils. So excuse me for being hesitant to sign the paper! He has demanded that parents come as well, to look after their children. Well, excuse me, but if I go on a camping trip, who is going to take care of “Cookie”, “Kitty”, “Boo” and “Sparky”?????? I just haven’t learned the art of cloning yet. So, there is dead silence between us now. I am just so sick and tired of these “diva” manners! Trust me though, she will start screaming at me, next week, again, because their is a dance show held next weekend, and I KNOW there are things she will need for it. “Cookie” is in it, dancing as a clown. We are making bals to attach to her T-shirt and she needs black shoes and black stockings. So far, “the diva” has not announced what needs to be done, for her costume! I guess she will drop that on me the night before and then scream her head off, since I have not read her mind and fixed it in advance. I am supposed to crawl on my knees for her, just the way my mother made me do growing up, and sorry, I will not DO THAT AGAIN!