A Kid Is For Life

Last night went to a party given by journo friends in Hackney. As I couldn't be arsed to take my child to my mum's, I decided to take her with me. It was in east London, Hackney, and I knew I wouldn't stay that long, because I didn't have my cab fare home, and if I stayed there longer than two hours, would no doubt get stupidly drunk, then horny, and then frustrated, as the average age of the men present is around 21!

Unsurprisingly, Clarke was the only child there, but she knew a few people, my former classmates, and found a spot near the tortillas. Devs, whose party it was, looked after her brilliantly, making her a toasted cheese sandwich, and H made sure she didn't touch the alcohol.

Taking children to an adult party probably doesn't happen much these days mainly because most people don't actually seem to be able to control their bad-ass kids. "Oh, oh, don't do that darling" Mummy says weakly as her kids charge through her poor friend's house wreaking some Hurricane Katrina type havoc. I don't play that. My kid knows better than to play up when we're out. I'm not in anyway saying I am the perfect mother, but, the mistake people make is thinking that you need to wait until a child is about five to start disciplining them. Bad behaviour, using inappropriate language is seen as cute and goes unchecked. By then, it's way too late. You're kids start acting like something out of The Exorcist and you're left playing catchup. Forever.

People always go on about the European lifestyle being more child-friendly. 'Oh, they love having children in their restaurants and they eat proper food, no turkey twizzlers' says Battersea yummy Mummy. Bitch please. There is no culture more child-friendly than African culture. Black kids go everywhere their parents go - lest we forget, even into the fields while cotton was being picked. Pay babysitter to look after your child? You white people have money to spend oh. Nev-er. The only time I've paid to look after Clarke were her nursery, while I was studying for my first degree.

When I was a kid, you went everywhere with your parents. And you ate what they ate. There's no 'oh, Butterfly doesn't like spicy food'. Butterfly eats what mummy and daddy eat. I rarely saw a fish finger, or a sausage, unless it was for my breakfast. Dinner, was fish and rice, dumpling and green banana. Steak and rice and peas. Mackerel rundown, with hard food. Cowfoot, pigs trotters, roast chicken, jerk pork, the usual. I used to think it was exotic when I got a Yorkshire pudding with my dinner! And it's the same for Clarke. I think, I've always had a good instinct for raising children, which personally I think I should exploit by having many more of the blighters. But that's another post. But for all of you that don't have them - here's my tip. If Clarke didn't want to eat her dinner, I would take it away. If she asked for anything else like biscuits, cakes, whatever. I would say to her but you said you weren't hungry, you didn't eat your dinner. And I wouldn't give her anything else. Nothing. Being my child, she love a food really, so she would always crack, and eat the food. I didn't try and find her something else she would eat, or cook two different meals. Fuck that - I'm not your personal chef, either you eat my food, or you eat nothing.

My neighbour said her kid would only eat chocolate, and crackers...! Obviously I'm looking at her like what kind of adult are you, if you allow that to happen? There is no black household that I know of, where that could run. That child would eat nothing until she decided to eat something, even if she ended up looking like something out of Biafra. Black mummies don't play dat.

Yummy mummy says 'In Europe, the whole family goes out together, sitting in cafes and restaurants, and walking around late at night.' Bitch please. My mum used to take me and Big Sis out late at night. We used to go to parties, or round to friends. All the kids would hang together and when we got tired, we would be put on a bed, invariably the one with coats on it. By the end of the night we'd be underneath a mountain of coats. Once, I was buried so deep, my mum actually couldn't find me. Obviously we weren't babies, because that would be dangerous no?

Times have changed, and if I have a sitter (my mum or Suzie Wong) I don't take Clarke to events which are more suitable for adults for a couple of reasons. I think it's important for children to maintain an innocence, and although I think the Rabbit incident may have blown that for me..., I don't think it's healthy for her to be the only child around adult company. Unless it's a family do. Time spent with friends will usually involve conversations which oughtn't to be heard by a child like, "X told me his brother's girl put him out, and threw his clothes into the street.' Why? 'He said, 'she's just going on 'garotty'." Garotty? Hahaha. Don't you just love street-slang. What does it mean? Off-key, crazy, evil, whatever. Apparently I'm so behind with that one, its already been battered (used a lot), and is dead on road, all without me being aware of it. I know there are some people that won't be surprised by that. (FU - S) Anyhow, Clarke doesn't really need to know about X's brother's girl going on 'garotty'. And what with her being the granddaughter of Antennae Annie (my mum), who suffers from an extreme case of 'flappy ear-sitis' I definitely have to be vigilant.

Last month I made an exception for her godmother's baby shower. I knew there wouldn't be any children there but now that Clarke is 11, it's time for her to learn how to conduct herself well socially among grown-ups. Home-training children doesn't end, it just changes. I mean who is going to teach her, if not I? I remember riding her about using her knife and fork properly when we were at home. Cutting food up and chewing nicely. I can't bear people that eat badly, it's a dealbreaker men. She couldn't understand why she had to be concerned when she was at home. 'It's really not about embarrassing yourself and me when we're eating in a restaurant or at someone else's house.' Then earlier this year I proudly showed her the news stories about schools having to teach children how to use a knife and fork properly. That's a special kind of parenting 'wotlessness' when you can't even teach your seed how to eat their food in a civilised manner. Words. Fail. Me.

I don't want Clarke to be the mute, sullen child kid in the corner, but rather the friendly, communicative, smart girl that she is. I want her to know how to act in different situations, and always encourage her to ask for things in shops, and buy train tickets and stuff herself, so that she learns how to do it and gains confidence doing it. She said, 'oh it's going to be boring. What am I going to do?'. 'You're going to make yourself useful, help serve the adults drinks, and food, and make conversation. Don't just be the monosyllabic child who can't string a sentence together sitting in the corner'. So she did. And she did really well. As usual I got lots of compliments for how well-behaved she is (come on that's standard- or should be), but I was really impressed with how she conversed with people. Every so often I would see her holding a conversation with someone, and at one point she was talking to three women who were all asking her questions. And she spoke very well, no 'ya get me's', and they were really impressed by her. Which made me feel really proud.

Clarke was a bit bored at the house party. I did my social 'butterfly' thing. Talked to a few people, got a heads-up on a job, and had a few drinks. Not too much mind, not while in charge of a minor. We got home about 12.30, she was really tired, and admitted she's not quite ready for the late night socialising. At which point I put her to bed, got my second wind, and hit the second spot for the night. She's got plenty of time to catch me up.