Day 22. Family life (22/1/19)

(Soundtrack: some songs you've never heard by a band that you should have. My mate Si, has this band, Hightown Pirates, their first album is a blinder, they're a magnificent live act and they put a new track up on Spotify and the other usual outlets about a month back. It was produced by Youth, ex Killing Joke and The Orb, guy behind the desk for McCartney, Madonna, The Verve, Shack and a million others. He produced an EP for the band because he loves their sound. One track out of four released. Not enough people listened to it, the radio ignored it, the festivals aren't interested in anyone that hasn't got 'a real buzz on their social media' - not doing numbers on Instagram? You don't exist. This is the modern world and all that.

But I've got a link. I've got demos. I've got the secret stuff. The stuff you haven't listened to. 

And I've got it on now because I want the familiar, the comforting, the sound that's filled with hope.)

They don't tell you how to be a parent, do they? Don't tell you it's actually pretty bloody hard.

Duncan Jones got some stick on twitter recently for pointing out that, no matter how much he loves being a parent, sometimes it's just much harder work than you're cut out for.

There's no manual. They don't send you home with an instruction book. You just leave the hospital with this little life that you're supposed to nourish and help to survive and teach.

And they change every day. Every day forever. And you're supposed to adapt to that. You've got your own parents' examples to build on but their example was set 'however many years older you are than your own specific child' ago and the world insisted on changing at the same time. And you weren't paying attention at the time anyway because they were your parents and you weren't going to agree with them. You're not supposed to.

Long and short of it: I've just had an argument with one of the lads.

I'm not proud of that. I'm not happy with that. I feel lousy.

It was basically over nothing. Some of it was tied up with the 'I've just got home from a shitty day in a job I don't want to be in (and am leaving in 6 days), why am I tidying up the kitchen that I tidied up this morning?' Some of it was just the fact that I have, and know I have, this shitty short temper, I over-react and have no idea how to pull back, so I keep digging.

There was an argument between the two of them. A small thing that I thought was needless and an over reaction. So I made sure that I said so. Because I can't just keep it in, can I? There was a bit of 'don't use that language in this house' and a reply of 'I'm a grown adult, I'm going to talk how I want'. Which is true, accurate and what I'd have said in the same position.

That's the sane, calm, sensible, regretful approach.

I went for ranting and raving instead. And built and built. As I tend to. He was calm. And whatever part of me was right was buried in wrong.

See? Sometimes you come to this place and it's not what you expect. All I can give you is what I'm thinking at the moment I sit down.

And sometimes that's not going to show me in a good light. This one certainly doesn't.

I make mistakes. I'm a long way from perfect. I admit to my mistakes.

The key is to stop making them.

Life's too bloody short to be screaming at the ones you love.

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