The hand that rocks the cradle!

Projection! We all project onto our children, but often we don’t understand what or how we do this! I’m so guilty of this, and at the time I wasn’t fully aware I was projecting until I learn’t what projection was and how it works! Here’s a post that reveals my shadow and her antics! Its meant in fun, so don’t take me too seriously, I’m taking the piss out of myself!

I’ve always had a thing or (rather a fantasy) for Fireman? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to sleep with them, I like watching them, and looking at them. I find them so distracting and… It’s the hero thing!

For my sons third birthday, I threw him a party and on this occasion, the presents he recieved all related to fireman! Which I never planned, (honestly) it just turned out this way. Well…. it certainly reawakened my inner tiger!

He was overwhelmed with fire engines from guests, and I was in my element…  I even purchased a ride on fire engine, it was the best birthday ever….. I was in heaven!!! Watching fireman is my little bit of heaven!

I, would happily play the damsel in distress subtlety pointing out the fireman on TV shows or when they were in films. Fireman Sam videos were a failure, when toy story came out, the fire service was relegated to buzz light year. 😩

Then, a stroke of luck shimmered down. His school were selecting a few of the children to go to the fire station for a field day trip. Well, as my son always buried any important paperwork from school in the depths of his rucksack, scrunched up and crushed. I missed the enrolment!!!

Out comes the tiger within!

It was a teaching assistant that called me aside and mentioned the fire trip. My hand clutched my heart in despair. ‘My son has to go!’ I burst impatiently. Panic started to rise and my mind started firing off all cylinders. What if he misses the trip, my boy will never understand a real hero, my boy will be forever in the fantasy that batman is a real profession! I want him to grow up to be a fireman. I love fireman!  His teacher kept relaying back to me that he was very much the class policeman! (No…No, oh my god Noooooo, 😩not police uniform, He’s got to be a fireman, He’s my boy, I have to teach him to be compassionate and brave!) If he misses this trip he might bypass the profession. Oh no, this could be a catastrophe? Overwhelmed with panic and my slightly noticeable tinge of maternal madness!

My boy is not missing this trip! I growled. Not for anything!! They need parents to help with these trips and I need to make sure my name is at the top!! I want to go to the fire station! I want to salivitate over them! (phwoarrrrr!!) I buckle at the knees and go totally weak, breathless… speechless in their presence! It’s my crazy madness that they bring out in me!

Since Toy Story took over, I had been waiting for an opportunity like this. He was seven years old! I was running out of time!  It used to take us 20 minutes to walk home, now that there was a field trip in the pipeline, I grabbed the opportunity to encourage the profession again, I loved it (ahem fireman)!  I changed the route home – now it takes 45 minutes but we get to see the fire station…. every day….. it was bliss! The kids moaned about the long walk but it was necessary, it helped them sleep!

‘Do you want to be a firemen when you grow up son,’ I would ask innocently floating around him as he played Xbox! Sometimes we (I had my babysitters in on it too!) would watch the fireman in their training drill and it would take me back to my youth, were I would truant off school to salivitate watching the fireman running around the park, in their crisp and white… (oooh…. I’m fanning myself just sharing this story) and nice hairy legs….. Gggrrr, brings out the tiger in me….. and white shorts! Mm oh the memories! The fireman made going to school all the more bearable for me!

I’ve discovered my passion, I want to stalk fireman! just kidding, I’m actually taking the piss out of myself!

Well I immediately marched off down the corridor (cos I march when I’m on rampage, some people say I stamp my feet! I call it marching) searched for my sons coat peg and grabbed his rucksack, super fast.

Nothing like the fantasy of fireman to get my ovaries twitching!

My two hands ripped the bag open  like a mad woman and emptied everything out on the floor in a hurry. (My heart was pounding…. I was so anxious we lost his slip!)  There was no time to waste for this. It’s really serious this is. My sanity depended on this ticket! (Honestly, you’d of thought I was searching for the winning lottery ticket!)
I found the golden ticket, the letter was crumbled in the bottom of the bag. ‘I’ve got it, I’ve got it!’ I gasped as I waved it in the air to show the empty cloakroom I had won. I opened the letter out really carefully, slowly opening the beautiful white paper. (It was the most beautiful piece of white paper I had ever seen!) pressing it down really gently, so the creases would push out. My heart rate slowing down now, ‘Breathe kelly breathe… I’m ok…. I’m ok,’ I said to the empty cloakroom. Relieved, I had the letter. I signed the form and ran straight to his form tutor.

‘This trip is the most important aspect of my sons education, it is not only vital that he attends, it’s imperative! He must go…. ‘ Breathe for air girl! Breathe….

My pleading and urging was not necessary as his tutor had reserved his name because she felt it would of been a fabulous experience for him too. (I loved her! she genuinely was the best teacher he ever had. I’m going to frame this invitation and look at it forever!) ‘Can I come too, I want to be a helper!’ They didn’t need me, which was probably a good thing?

So my son went on his trip, he loved it, when he came home I turned into FBI mode. I couldn’t stop asking questions about the fire station. (Tell me….. Tell me son I want to know it all, I pinned him down in the dining room, my elbows on the table, my hands under my chin, I was engrossed) I wanted to know the wallpaper in the staff room, the size of the kitchen, how long the pole was, where the toilets were! Did you get the staff room phone number, what do they eat, What’s all there names! – obsessed mother or what!

I would often divert the walk back from school. If it rained I drove the children in the car, passing the station, sometimes I parked in the back of the station and swooned as they trained outside. I was careful that I didn’t push too much. I really resented mothers who forced and pushed their children into careers and sports they couldn’t achieve. (I didn’t realise I was doing the exact same thing) I just wanted to subliminally remind my son about the fire service profession. I guess I was trying to teach him about true heroes in society as opposed to the fictional, illusionary characters he was accustomed to. I wanted to bake cakes for them cos I love fireman!

I stopped being so obsessed after my son was about 8 years old. He wanted to play football instead!

Fast forward ten years…Until he was about to leave school. He said to me in the car – ‘I really wanted to be a fireman mum,’ My mouth dropped when he said it! but I can’t because of my asthma!’

My heart leapt into my mouth. I wanted to burst forth with enthusiasm saying you can you still can. (We can. We can do this son)! But I resisted, because ultimately, I knew it wasn’t my choice. I realised at this point that I projected my choice of career to him, I was really suprised though, and I understood at this point in his life that he was the ultimate authority on what he chooses to do with his life.

Moral of the story – We become that which we are fed! Thats the nature of projection!  I guess ‘the hand that rocks the cradle really does – rule the world!

Anyway, the dream isn’t over for me yet – there’s still time for GRANDSONS!!!

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