How to teach Sex Education the RIGHT way…

Happy New Year!

It’s only the 1st day of 2018 and already I’m ready to rant about more liberal nonsense.

Take this little beauty of an article in the Metro by Lifestyle Editor Ellen Scott entitled:

Why you should buy your teenage kids sex toys

Seriously. Go and read it and come back.

I’ll wait.

If, like me, you’re ready to snap your laptop in two, then we’ll begin.

So. The premise of this article, we are told, is not to “buy your son a Fisher Price sex-doll, or your daughter an 8 inch strap-on for her 8th birthday”.

Oh no, that would be crazy…

No, the reason for the article is as “a way to introduce your offspring to the concept of self-pleasure.”

Yes. You heard that right.

She’s suggesting that you buy sex-toys for your teenager

Ok, first of all: it’s a parents job to make sure their kids grow up healthy and safe, with enough food to eat and a roof over their head.

It’s not the job of a parent to sit down with their child and ask if they’d prefer a Pulsating Pussy or a Butt Plug.

lots-of-gifts

Generally, when it comes to discussing sex with your kids, I always find that less is more. The most that me and my parents talked about it was when I came home from school with a pocketful of condoms from Sex Education, to which my Dad warned me:

“Don’t let your sister see those!”

That was it. And the lesson I took from that is: don’t tell kids too much about adult subjects.

They’re called Adult subjects for a reason.

I know it’s the “cool” thing for parents to talk about everything with their kids now; the “no barriers” approach that single parents tend to  take in order to stay relevant to their kids. You know the ones: they’re the parents going through a mid-life crisis post-divorce who begin dressing the same as their kids and actually hanging out as friends and drinking buddies.

“Don’t go with Dad/Mam! Stay with me your Dad/Mam, I’m cool and can relate to you! I’m more like a best-friend than a parent! I’ll let you drink and snort coke with me!”

There’s just certain things that parents and kids don’t talk about in order to have a healthy relationship, and masturbation with sex toys is definitely one of them. Kids know about sex, and parents know their teens masturbate. Let’s just stay oblivious eh?

Can you imagine a single Father having to sit his daughter down and ask her if she wants a sex-toy?

He’d be in prison before he could say “but muh progressive parenting..”

So parents, the only thing I can say to those of you who might be considering offering sex-aids to your kids is: Don’t.

If you really want to help your kids when it comes to sex, do it the old-fashioned way:

Stock up the freezer with plenty of frozen Hot-dogs (a-la “Family Guy”) and occasionally replace the crusty sock that’s stashed under your son’s bed.

And then go about your business. Trust me, the kids will appreciate it more.

RANT OVER

 

 

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Hints and Tips for the Middle-aged Traveller

My wife and I take my kids on holiday abroad at least once a year, generally to an All Inclusive Beach resort with slides and pools, in order to let the kids have limitless fun, me have limitless beer, (or at least the option of limitless beer; I don’t allow myself to drink more than one or two in front of my kids because, well, responsibility?) and it allows my wife to feel good about having 6 plates of food from the buffet because her first plate was a salad. When I hear people say that taking kids on holiday is one of the most stressful things you can do, I honestly believe that these people just aren’t doing it properly.

When my children’s Mother and her Husband take them on holiday however, it’s the most stressful time of my life. They’re off enjoying themselves in the sun, leaving me at home to watch the clock while awaiting their return, scouring the News for anything “Terroristy” happening. Before I met my wife, these week-long torture trials were exhausting and lonely; filled with paranoid visions of my kids slipping beside the pool and braining themselves, becoming the next Madeleine McCann, or simply walking in front of a Terrorists bullet/truck/suicide vest.

Horrible, horrible times.

My wife, being the “sensible one” in the relationship, only managed to sit through one year of this obviously self-inflicted torture I was putting myself through and decided that when the kids go away with their Mother the following year, we were going to have our own little break somewhere. Just me and her, visiting cities and places we’d always wanted to see, but couldn’t go to because, well; which 9-year-old kid wants to go to Vatican City?

We were going to go travelling.

Since then, me and the wife have ticked off quite a bit of our Bucket Lists, and learnt a lot about the right way and the wrong way to go travelling, especially at our age.

You see, it’s different travelling when you’re in your teens, or early twenties. You can hop on a plane with barely any money and only a backpack full of tie-dye T-shirts and have a spontaneous, yet amazingly self-enriching time.

When you hit your forties and fifties, you can’t be as carefree and as “like, totally Random” as the young-uns. You need to plan, and you need to know your limits.

So with that in mind, here are some tips for the Middle-aged Traveller from someone who is fast becoming a “dab-hand” at this travelling mallarkey.

1) Leave your guilt and worry at home.

The first time we went away without the kids I felt terrible, and it led to me not being able to relax and enjoy the first couple of days of our trip as much as I should have. “What kind of parent leaves their children whilst trotting the globe?” I asked my wife while crying into my ridiculously over-priced, and to be honest, appallingly tasting Aperol Spritz. What I failed to understand was that I wasn’t leaving my kids; they were busy sunning themselves in Ibiza with their Mother, and that I was on this trip to try to ease my own suffering about them not being with me.

Silly boy.

The fact was, as my wife calmly (through gritted-teeth) told me, was that the kids were never going to be with me during this week anyway, so I may as well enjoy it.

So, if like me, you have kids from a previous relationship and you go on a “Couple’s Vacation” when the kids aren’t scheduled to be with you, then don’t feel guilty. Make the best of a bad situation and enjoy yourself.

If, however, you have kids and simply choose to leave them with family, friends or the Neighbours’ Dog to enable you to placate your wanderlust, then you are disgusting and don’t deserve to have children at all. (I’ll leave it to your interpretation as to whether this is a joke.)

2) Find the nearest Pharmacy

Let’s be honest with each other here. You’re middle-aged, and with that comes certain issues surrounding your health. I don’t want to hear this rubbish about how many miles you cycle a day (no doubt dressed like a wannabe member of the GB Cycling team) or how often you go to Spinning Classes, which, I only recently found out had nothing to do with knitting or sewing. It’s irrelevant. When you hit a certain age, your body slowly begins to wind down and fail you at key times, and being abroad certainly doesn’t help.

Think you can walk for miles on cobble-stone paths and climb hundreds of steps without passing out?

Think you can drink foreign beer and enormously generous servings of spirits and liqueurs without having the hangover from hell?

Think you can still eat rich, spicy food and not follow-through when you fart?

Think again.

The Pharmacy is your friend.

3) Don’t punch the “Lookie-Lookie Men”

We’ve all wanted to do it.

The thing is, I did it.

I’m not immensely proud of it, but at the same time I still believe the guy deserved it. Thankfully, the Venetian Police saw it that way too.

Basically, we’d had 4 days of “Lookie-Lookie Men” trying to sell us their wares; from plastic roses to reduced price tickets to museums, to light-up toys that you shoot into the sky which illuminate most major European cities at night. One guy, obviously sick of being ignored by the throngs of tourists, decided that he was going to stop my wife in her tracks and place a plastic rose across her breasts, citing the old rule “if you touch it you have to buy it”. To be slightly fair to the guy, I think he was aiming to put it in her hands, but ended up with his hand buried deep in cleavage valley. One Bruce Lee style punch to the chest later, and the guy was lying on the floor trying to attract the attention of his fellow “Crap-sellers”, who were starting to move in on our position looking to aid their fallen comrade. If not for the Police, who shooed them all away and told me with a sympathetic yet stern look to “beat it”, I might have ended up at the bottom of the Grand Canal with a dozen plastic roses stuck up my arse.

Remember to keep your cool. Italian Police aren’t normally known for their sympathy towards tourists.

Especially English ones with Football shirts on…

4) Don’t over-do it

Like I said earlier, you’re not as young and fit as you think you are. Being in a different country, and being amongst younger travellers will give you a false sense of your own abilities. Seeing other, younger people enjoying themselves and seeking adventure after adventure, throwing caution to the wind and just “going for it” is the path down which the Middle-aged Traveller will fail.

Spectacularly.

If you want to join the group of sweaty, dirty-haired students on a gap-year at the next table, who invite you to get drunk with them on the local speciality booze, then that’s up to you. (Just so you know; they’ll invite you to either make fun of you, or steal your wallet, and you’ll accept to try to “re-live your youth” and convince your friends back home how cool and hip you now are. You will achieve neither.)

My advice is, don’t do it the night before you plan to climb to the top of Il Duomo in Florence.

Other tourists don’t like stepping over sick in such a tightly enclosed space.

5) Treat your significant other as a Guinea Pig

Most couples usually have one partner who is significantly more adventurous than the other, and that’s fine. If everyone was the same we’d be pretty bored. Don’t get me wrong, you should let go a bit and try new things whenever you travel, but being abroad can really make people let go of their inhibitions; sometimes with disastrous consequences. If you’re the least adventurous one in your pairing, you’ll probably also be the one who doesn’t like spending too much money on things, especially on new things that you might not like. Enjoy yourself by all means, but use your head. Nobody wants to blow their money in the first couple of days. You need some security, right?

Here’s my solution. Oh, and this is for the “Less adventurous” partner to read, so if that’s not you, look away now.

Let your partner indulge their adventurousness. Convince them that they do want to try that drink that you’ve heard so much about, but are too frightened you’re not going to like. Have a taste of theirs, and, if you like it? Get one next time. If you don’t? No harm no foul. If your partner doesn’t like it?

“Oh dear, that’s a shame. Just hold your nose when you drink it, you won’t taste it.”

Money saved and adventures had. That’s a win in my book.

6) Don’t go with other couples

At the very least, couples who are having relationship issues.

This one really is a no-brainer. The last thing you need in a country you’re unfamiliar with is the “troubled couple” kicking off with each other and having to spend the entire time playing Devil’s Advocate. The guys end up going their own way, getting drunk in the middle of Prague and relive their Lad’s Holiday from 1994 by climbing into the Krizig fountain.

The girls on the other hand will be drunk in a wine bar, telling each other how much they hate men while crying on the shoulder of some “friendly locals” who are plying them with more wine.

Ok, maybe the last scenario was slightly over-the-top, but at the very least, both couples will want to do different things spend so long debating where to go first, they end up staying in a Pub all day getting sozzled or end up going their separate ways anyway.

It’s all a bit dramatic for my liking.

So there you are, I’m sure there are more hints and tips out there, but these are what I deem to be the important ones.

So, get yourselves on Groupon (very cheap as long as you live in London) get a holiday booked, remember these pearls of wisdom and you’ll be fine.

Honest.

RANT OVER

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

No Kids allowed

I came across an interesting article the other day (which you can check out for yourselves here) about a Café owner in Brixham, Devon. The man in question owns a ship and ocean-liner themed Café called The Chart Room, which is lined from wall to wall with cruise-ship memorabilia and lots of other “boat stuff”. Being an avid cruise-ship and boat enthusiast, Bob Higginson (or Sir Bob as I will henceforth refer to him as) decided to open a business that reflects his interests and passions, which is of course, his prerogative to. And, since he can do pretty much whatever he likes with his OWN business (within the eyes of the law anyway) he has made an interesting decision regarding his OWN business.

He has banned under 12’s from the premises.

High-five

Obviously the outrage was going to come. Residents and parents alike began to pour scorn on Sir Bob’s decision to ban the little darlings from HIS business, citing such reasons as “marginalising children” and “discrimination”.

Give me a break.

For one thing, Sir Bob is well within his rights not to let children in. Children are not included in legislation regarding their permittance to a premises.

His place, his rules.

Dislike the decision all you want, but the fact remains that Sir Bob doesn’t have to let children in if he doesn’t want to. Yes, that might affect his sales and alienate people but you know what? That’s HIS problem.

There are countless places across the world that don’t cater for kids, and the reason is quite a simple one:

Not everybody likes or wants to be around kids.

In my last post; No, your kids are not that special, I talked about how people can think the world of their own children, but don’t necessarily give a damn about other peoples’. And that’s fine. Sir Bob has opened a business that he wants to aim at the older generation; the generation that has already had Kids and now that they’ve flown the nest, want to enjoy having a sense of freedom to live their lives without constraints. Or noise. Or cheesy Wotsit-covered fingers.

The people complaining about Children being “marginalised” don’t really think this at all. What they really feel is that as Parents they are the ones being treated unfairly, not their Kids. To say it’s the Kids is another example of people using their Children as a weapon to bash people over the head with to create sympathy; sympathy for the fact that having Kids can constrict your life and supress your ability to keep up with your Hipster friends.

My advice?

Stop taking your Kids to places that YOU want to go to. No Kid under 12 really wants to go to a Cruise-ship themed Café, just like no Kid wants to go to a Michelin Star restaurant  or the local pub to sit and watch you get p*ssed up with your mates.

Remember, it’s about the Kids, it’s not about you.

Now, leave the oldies to their peace and quiet, and off you go with the little-ones to McDonalds; there’s a Kids’ play area in a lot of them now. Not a lot of staff at the moment though; they’re off on strike asking to be paid more for not understanding what “No pickles” means.

RANT OVER

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No, your Kids are not that special

Hey Parents, guess what?

To other people, your kids aren’t as important as you think they are.

“But Rantsen” I hear you wail, “you’re a Parent yourself! How could you say such a thing?”

Because I’m a realist, that’s why.

Like most Parents (not all, nothing is all remember) I love my kids, I really do, but there comes a time when you need to realise that people just don’t give as much of a sh*t about them as you do.

When my kids were born I used to absolutely bombard my Facebook page with pictures of them in their new outfits and, what was literally hourly updates of “amazing” things they had just done.

Like smiling.

Like laughing.

Like having the worst smelling nappy in the history of the entire Universe.

And, at the beginning, I would get lots of likes and comments about how beautiful and cute my kids were, and how people were “sooooo jealous…” of me for having such amazing kids. These comments ranged from my male, “Alpha-Male” friends, to my family, to my older-generational friends who don’t really know how to use “a Facebook”, but could still , manage to string together an “aw, they’re lovely” or a “you must be so proud”. (I have a wide variety of Friends who all belong to some sort of stereo-typical group or another.)

But, however, after a while the comments would become less and less. The Alpha-Male bro’s would maybe give a Like once in a while in-between Gym sessions, as would the childless Guys and Gals who were still popping pills in Nightclubs and who hadn’t “settled down” yet. The only real Kid-fans I had left were the “Oldies” and my Family, and even those were starting to tail off and leave only the occasional polite Comment or Like.

I was devastated to say the least.

“But I think my kids are amazing!” I said to myself. “Why aren’t people interested anymore?”

Here’s why.

Having Kids can cloud your judgement; you can go from being the most rational person to the most irrational in the time it takes a cervix to dilate. The moment you have them, you place them on the highest pedestal and build up barriers to prevent them being knocked off it. You believe that everyone else should feel the way you do about your children and that anyone who doesn’t particularly like, or want kids is at best deluded, or at worst, a monster.

People with kids think this because of one thing – You forget how you yourself felt about kids before you had your own.

Again, not all. Some people are pre-disposed to liking kids, others don’t realise they would like them until they’ve had them. Before I had kids I used to be completely in-different of them (I didn’t know my Nephew had a middle name until he was 14)

I realised this, thankfully, before it was too late and I let myself become swept up in the notion that “people can be so cruel” not to worship my kids the way I do.

One of my friends had posted on Facebook that it was her daughters’ birthday and I noticed the almost robotic responses she was getting from people. There must have been six different people all replying with the old classic “Wow, where has all of the time gone? Happy Birthday Anais (not her real name but I’m surprised it’s not as her mother is the worlds biggest Hipster).

It was then I realised –  I’d wrote exactly the same thing. To the word.

I once didn’t pay my electric bill on time so I could buy my new-born son an extra present to go along with the hundreds of pounds I’d already spent, for a Christmas that he would have no idea or recollection about. Yet, I couldn’t even come up with an original birthday wish for my friends’ daughter? What a heartless monster I was.

Except, I didn’t feel like a monster. I felt that, as lovely as “Anais” is, I didn’t have the need to go over the top about her in the same way I would with my own because I experience my kids way different to someone else’s.

And I suppose the same can be said about a lot of things in life.

Nobody will ever love your kids as much as you do, therefore it’s so important to know that, and to not forget it.

No, your kids aren’t that special. To everyone but you.

So go ahead and adore your children; love them like there is no tomorrow.

Just don’t be upset that not everyone else feels as much love for them as you do.

RANT OVER