jonathan.beckett@gmail.com

Sunday Night

In recent months I have often found myself writing blog posts in the dead of night. Perhaps it's a reflection on the number of things I'm trying to juggle at once.

The weekend has been quiet. Sometimes quiet is good.

We watched some more of the movie 'Dune' last night. It says something that when we eventually finish watching it, it will have taken three attempts – three sessions to make it through a long movie. That's just how chaotic our life is right now.

Last night I made it through the middle hour of the movie before walking into town at midnight to accompany my daughter home from work (she works at a pub).

She's applying to join the police this year, but we're quietly wondering if we should encourage her to experience a little of the world first. She's very young, and while the police will be lucky to get her one day, we can't help feeling she needs some more life experience first. She's wanted to join the police since she was young.

Maybe she'll be fine. Maybe we're being over-protective. I guess we'll find out.

She went out on her first 'big night out' as a person 'of age' this weekend. The manager of the bar where she works celebrated her birthday, so the entire bar staff went out to a club after closing time to help her celebrate. I stayed up 'just in case'.

She got home at 4:30am. In one piece.

The remarkable thing? She had three hours sleep, then got up, and went back out to work at 9am to serve breakfasts in the pub. She then worked the evening shift through to closing time again.

I remember being able to do things like that when I was 18. I can't any more. Just staying up the other night flattened me the next day. That curious sensation where your body overheats all day because you've screwed with it's internal clock.

Anyway.

Our focus turns to our youngest daughter this week. As college winds down, several of her closest friends have gone their own way – on to different schools, or off to the world of work. She's been very quiet – we both suspect a form of grieving is going on. Yes, they're still keeping in touch via the wonders of social media, but they're no longer at each other's hip throughout the week, and never will be again.

I remember my parents telling me that my co-workers would become my world when I left college, and I didn't believe them. They were right though.

And then once you have children, the parents of your children's friends become your circle – and then the other parents in their school years. It's funny how that happens. You also notice that friends without children form entirely different social circles.

We all find our own route, one way or another. The trick is letting your children find their own way without being too visible in the background, waiting to pick them up and dust them down.

I remember the first time my eldest daughter drank too much. As I walked home with her – helping to hold her up, she remarked 'you're always there when we need you most – how do you do that?' – I replied 'we're your parents. It's our job''