According to James Lehman, a renowned child behavioural therapist, you should never criticise your children’s friends.
Teenagers in particular, have a natural instinct to defend their friends and by attacking them you are attacking your child’s judgement.
It makes sense to me but fortunately I have had very little reason to dislike any of my five kids’ friends, ever. Okay, there was one boy who was banned from the house, but I’ve forgiven him now and the less said about it the better.
It really is a sign of good character to be able to maintain friendships over a long time. Thaddeus and Jonah, now twenty-three and twenty-two respectively, have sustained a long friendship with Newman for eighteen years.
Twenty year old Hagar has had the same group of wild and woolly mates from since he was eight. Lulu is the same although her range of friends is so extensive I can’t keep up.
It really is a sign of good character to be able to maintain friendships over a long time. Thaddeus and Jonah, now twenty-three and twenty-two respectively, have sustained a long friendship with Newman for eighteen years.
Twenty year old Hagar has had the same group of wild and woolly mates from since he was eight. Lulu is the same although her range of friends is so extensive I can’t keep up.
The Poinker household is constantly full of hormone charged teenagers and I never know who I will bump into when I go down to the kitchen to make my morning coffee.
On a Sunday morning, Padraic will often have five or six young men sleeping off the previous night’s party in his room. They hang around like lethargic locusts sprawled over the lounge room in the school holidays.
Do I mind? Well… apart from the fact that they eat everything in sight, ask for lifts at inconvenient times, mock my choice of radio station in the car and sometimes smell a bit whiffy… no I don’t, because they are always polite, quiet and I’ve known most of them for years.
The photo above was taken this morning before the boys left to go to the local music festival, Groovin the Moo. When you initially look at the photo you would be forgiven for thinking, “Hello, hello… those teenagers look like they might be a bit of a handful. Looks like there’s a bit of an attitude going on there… I wouldn’t be surprised if they get into a bit of trouble today.”
Well, let me tell you a bit about them.
Jarrod (second from the left) and Jordan (far right), were recently on the front page of our paper. Why? While the two boys were on holidays in NSW, they intervened in a deplorable incident when a stranger was attempting to set his former partner and her mother on fire.
The lads had been watching TV at their friend’s house and heard the commotion outside. Risking their own safety, they grabbed the jerry can of petrol from the assailant and restrained him until the police arrived. I doubt I could ever be that brave, for the full article click… here
I’ve known Jarrod for about five years. The tattoo adorning the seventeen year old’s chest is not the name of a fly-by girlfriend but his mother's name and as a symbol of his love and devotion he had her moniker indelibly marked on himself. Awwwwwww…
Brandon the sixteen year old on the far left, is a cheeky Kiwi who has been signed up under contract with the North Queensland Cowboys until he is nineteen because of his outstanding talent and dedication to the game. Jordan (who is so shy he won’t talk about it) is in discussions with the Sydney Roosters NRL club.
Padraic my son (second from the right), is neither being hailed a hero nor scouted by a major sporting association, but you know what? He knows how to choose his friends wisely.
On a final less serious note, Lulu, readying herself for Groovin, sashayed into my room this morning in search of hairspray wearing a see-through white hanky above her midriff and a red satin elastic band posing as a pair of shorts.
“You aren’t wearing those shorts I hope!” said my mother channelling through my lips.
“Everyone else will be dressed like this,” she pouted Lolita-style.
“That doesn’t mean you have to be like everyone else.” replied my mother again.
She flounced off in a huff. When she returned five minutes later, I noticed she had changed the shorts for a slightly more demure skirt.
Glaring at me reproachfully she quipped, “I didn’t change because you told me to Mum! I just didn’t want to be pulling my shorts out of my bum all day!”
Whatever girlfriend!
Do I mind? Well… apart from the fact that they eat everything in sight, ask for lifts at inconvenient times, mock my choice of radio station in the car and sometimes smell a bit whiffy… no I don’t, because they are always polite, quiet and I’ve known most of them for years.
The photo above was taken this morning before the boys left to go to the local music festival, Groovin the Moo. When you initially look at the photo you would be forgiven for thinking, “Hello, hello… those teenagers look like they might be a bit of a handful. Looks like there’s a bit of an attitude going on there… I wouldn’t be surprised if they get into a bit of trouble today.”
Well, let me tell you a bit about them.
Jarrod (second from the left) and Jordan (far right), were recently on the front page of our paper. Why? While the two boys were on holidays in NSW, they intervened in a deplorable incident when a stranger was attempting to set his former partner and her mother on fire.
The lads had been watching TV at their friend’s house and heard the commotion outside. Risking their own safety, they grabbed the jerry can of petrol from the assailant and restrained him until the police arrived. I doubt I could ever be that brave, for the full article click… here
I’ve known Jarrod for about five years. The tattoo adorning the seventeen year old’s chest is not the name of a fly-by girlfriend but his mother's name and as a symbol of his love and devotion he had her moniker indelibly marked on himself. Awwwwwww…
Brandon the sixteen year old on the far left, is a cheeky Kiwi who has been signed up under contract with the North Queensland Cowboys until he is nineteen because of his outstanding talent and dedication to the game. Jordan (who is so shy he won’t talk about it) is in discussions with the Sydney Roosters NRL club.
Padraic my son (second from the right), is neither being hailed a hero nor scouted by a major sporting association, but you know what? He knows how to choose his friends wisely.
On a final less serious note, Lulu, readying herself for Groovin, sashayed into my room this morning in search of hairspray wearing a see-through white hanky above her midriff and a red satin elastic band posing as a pair of shorts.
“You aren’t wearing those shorts I hope!” said my mother channelling through my lips.
“Everyone else will be dressed like this,” she pouted Lolita-style.
“That doesn’t mean you have to be like everyone else.” replied my mother again.
She flounced off in a huff. When she returned five minutes later, I noticed she had changed the shorts for a slightly more demure skirt.
Glaring at me reproachfully she quipped, “I didn’t change because you told me to Mum! I just didn’t want to be pulling my shorts out of my bum all day!”
Whatever girlfriend!
