Huh, Parents!

I was going to do a lovely little blog about my new job (yes I have work now!) and how brilliant it is - and about how weird it is that you can go months with bugger all and then get three offers and an interview all within a week.

However, I don't feel remotely like blogging about my lovely new job.

I'm going to blog about my family instead. Specifically my dad.

Don't get me wrong, I love my dad. But he absolutely infuriates me at times and last night was I think the most offended I've ever been with him.

Yesterday, they'd dropped our kids off after a day out because both Seán and I were working that day. I was still out when they arrived. Seán got a phone call literally a second before they walked through the door - a lady enquiring about the moot that we run. She was apparently so enthused to be talking to a fellow Pagan (and fellow Pagan parent) - someone who had half a chance of relating to her - that Seán didn't so much as get chance to draw breath let alone apologise for cutting her short and saying "sorry this is a bad time, please can you ring back in a little while". When my parents walked in, they had no idea who was on the phone. For all they knew it could have been a family emergency. They'd have been able to guess within a few minutes that it was an enquiry about the moot, though. My parents left in high dudgeon, insulted at being neglected before he could end the call.

Seán, aware that he'd neglected them because of the phone call immediately sent an email apologising for this and explaining what had happened. My dad's response was to send a very offensive, pompous and high-handed email accusing us of putting the moot before our kids and being less than attentive to them generally.

We sent him a reply telling him how offended we were at him flinging Seán's apology back in our faces with such insulting remarks. As we both felt slightly differently, we wrote our own responses. Maybe we should have left it as I've done so often before.

Something like this happens regularly every couple of years or so. Last time we got let down at the last minute when they'd agreed to babysit and then backed out. I was the one who had to apologise to my mum becuase we'd been let down. Apparently we should have known it would cause them problems. Why say yes when I asked though? Wouldn't it have been simpler to say "sorry, we can't do that" when I asked rather than worry about it and then at the last minute back out.

I just feel like it's always me backing down and swallowing my pride and apologising. I have a bellyful of bile from all the times I've swallowed my pride for the sake of keeping the peace. If I didn't they'd lose contact with their grandchildren, which wouldn't be fair on either side.

Who made the first move when they threatened to throw me out and I ended up moving in with Seán? Yeah, me. This was after they'd snooped through my room, read private mail - a letter from an ex - put two and two together and got seven. My dad ruined my weekend by ringing me on Sunday night demanding I go home and "explain my lifestyle". They immediately assumed the worst - that I was still sleeping with this ex and was letting him deal drugs out of my tent at re-enactment events. They didn't have faith in my ability as an adult to deal with it and behave ethically. I was in my mid twenties when this happened, an age when, all things considered, even if I had had two boyfriends at the same time, one of whom smoked dope - it's really none of their business as long as it's not under their roof.

Despite what he'd said when I got dragged back home after Uni because "they weren't supporting me as a doley scumbag in Manchester while I looked for a job" that they'd respect the decisions I made, they understood I was an adult and they'd respect my privacy, it was very soon back to "Where d'you think you're going? What time d'you call this? You're going out looking like that?" It seemed like they were only able to pay lip-service to the idea that I'm an adult in my own right. Ten years after the big bust up when I moved out, it seems they're still trying to tell me how I should be living.


I ran out of time before finishing what I was intending to say, and since then, my dad has apologised for upsetting me.

That must have taken a lot, and I'm grateful for it.

However, part of me is sure that the same thing will happen again in a couple of years because they seem to forget that they don't have any business telling me what I should and shouldn't be doing.

I get the strong impression that my beliefs are a sticking point. I don't understand what the problem is, because it's something that is never ever spoken of. How can I clear up any misperception they may have if they change the subject and clearly are very keen not to talk about it. In this instance, I feel that it's my mum who has the problem with me being a Pagan. But there's this feeling I get that it's something she's so uncomfortable with she won't talk about it and so whatever misperception she may have isn't going to go away. I wonder what it is they think we do that's so dreadful.

I don't mind advice. I don't mind constructive criticism. What I object to is the patronising and pompous attitude which unfortunately comes so naturally to my dad. It just rubs people up the wrong way and last week I flew right off the handle because it was once too often.

Anyway. What's done is done, and so we move on.