Well it is seven o'clock on a dark Monday morning and I am thoroughly fed up. Whilst weekends are normally a time to recharge the batteries, this weekend has just drained me, thanks solely to Alice and her blasted homework.
Yes, we had another session where fifteen minutes' worth of homework turned into a three-hour slog. In the end I gave up - it was pointless her trying to answer questions about bus timetables when she couldn't even work out what the time was an hour before 3:45pm, for example. Not only was this truly easy stuff, but it is easy stuff she's covered before.
Unfortunately, I have to admit, I am such a poor teacher that I ended up getting frustrated and shouting, which clearly didn't help (though I'm not sure it particularly hindered her either).
I find this the most difficult part of parenthood. I started with nothing and anything that I have achieved in my life has been largely due to what's sitting in between my ears. It is profoundly disappointing that my daughter simply can't or won't engage her brain in any way, save for sitting there with the Argos catalogue and pointing out £300 toys she would like for christmas. All this despite knowing how tight things have become money-wise.
I am so fed up with it all. I can't help looking forward to when she is sixteen - if I am still alive then - and she can finally, legally, go out into the world on her own. And I can't help thinking that any half-decent parent wouldn't have thoughts such as these.