Past it, and proud of it (and a Pokemon obsession)

Thursday, 6 October 2016

About a year ago, I had a little nostalgic memory of a Pokemon book I had as a kid. I loved it so much I held onto it for years before eventually taking it to the charity shop.

I suddenly wanted that book back. A lot.

So I ordered a second hand copy 'for Jellybean' because it's little animals and she will love them, obviously. As it happened, she did love it, and all was well.

Then Pokemon Go came out.

My daughter is now obsessed with Pokemon to a level that is frankly frightening. Forget Frozen or Peppa Pig: Pokemon is where it's at. She knows most of the original 150 and who evolves into what. She knows that Pokeballs are for catching them. She knows that you have to defeat Pokemon to catch them (but she thinks its a bit naughty that they fight each other). We've had to come up with ways to scratch her Pokemon itch that doesn't involve staring at our phones because of, you know, square eyes.

These things include:
  • Making Pokemon out of playdough
  • Printing off endless Pokemon colouring pictures
  • Watching the TV show (thanks Netflix)
  • Looking at Pokemon cards (thanks to my past self for holding onto something)
  • Pretending to catch Pokemon
The latter is adorable. She runs around the house shouting 'GO ONIX GO!' and then comes running up to me to tell me she's caught an Eevee or whatever.


That's right: pyjamas in the daytime, sitting on the coffee table, watching cartoons: the trifecta of bad parenting

It's funny seeing her explain all this to our (baffled) parents. 

Jellybean: 'Granny, Caterpie turns into Metapod and Metapod turns into BUTTERFREE!'
Granny: 'Oh!' (blank expression)

Funnier to think that when I was nine or so, I was explaining the exact same thing to my (again, baffled) parents.

Which makes me feel very very very

OLD.

This is it, isn't it? This is what it means to be old. I felt it a couple of years ago when I spotted a bunch of teenagers wearing crop tops and checkered shirts tied round their waists with platform shoes and chokers. I thought 'oh, those kids look like my childhood.'

Then I realised that the nineties were in fashion. That's right, the nineteen-nineties: the era of inflatable furniture and alien necklaces and the Vengaboys. When Justin Timberlake's hair looked like noodles.


Image source. I notice the youth of today are a bit more sensible: no matter how many nineties trends come back, the noodle hair is staying firmly in the past. For which I can only thank God.


When I was a tweenager, I happily daydreamed about being a 'grown up'. Being a grown-up involved going to lots of parties, living in a ridiculous, luxurious flat in a big city with lots of friends, and not doing a whole lot of work.



Thanks for that helpful perception of adulthood, Friends.

In my daydreaming I never imagined myself past the age of 21. Not in a weird morbid way. Just because I genuinely didn't think anything cool or interesting could happen after that point. In my eleven-year-old mind, mid-twenties = ancient. I couldn't imagine being, you know, like my parents.

Now I am nearly thirty and I am married and I consider it a notable achievement if I go to bed with the bins emptied and the washing hanging up. I say a lot of things like

'Come back from the TV!'

and

'That's probably a bit too much glitter'

and 

'You need to let Mummy do this sweeping up/tidying/bill paying because it's important'

and

'No we can't just get money out of the bank'

and so on.

I chopped all my hair off (something I swore I'd never do as a teenager) and the thought of curling up on the sofa watching Strictly and having a nice cup of peppermint tea is actually delightful.

But do you know what? I still feel like the world is my oyster. Along with the confidence that comes from a bit more life experience. Almost thirty is way better than almost twenty one.

The youth can have their chokers and platform shoes if they want. I'm happy over here talking about the weather and occasionally complaining about heartburn.

As long as they realise that we had Pokemon first.



(P.S: she obviously doesn't know this, but our daughter is getting tiny Pokemon toys in her advent calendar instead of chocolate this year. Also, we've got her a book with all seven-hundred-million new Pokemon in it. As far as she's concerned there's only really 150. Her mind is about to be blown).



Linking up with:


Diary of an imperfect mum


3 Little Buttons

9 comments:

  1. This nails it!! My eldest doesn't believe that me and my sisters played Pokemon when we where small. She just can't get her head around it! ��#ablogginggoodtime

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    1. Haha! Yes I don't think Jellybean would believe me even if she understood the concept of me once being young ;) x

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  2. Pokemon - gotta catch them all! My little brother used to love them! It's funny how all these years later, everyone still loves them just as much. Ahhh a big cup of tea and strictly sounds wonderful :-) Thank you for linking up to the #DreamTeam x

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    1. I know ... got to love a bit of nostalgia! x

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  3. My sons were young first time round and were obsessed and they are again this time Meg. Amazing how Pokemon can bridge that gap!

    Coincidentally, I bumped into an old friend I hadn't seen for about 16 years last night. She was with her daughter. Who is now 23. With a 20 month old son. Just can't get my head round this! Not only is she still that child in my mind but I still feel the same age haha

    Would love to see the expression on LO's face when she receives her gifts :D x

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    1. I keep forgetting how old I am! I think I stopped at 21, at least mentally.

      I know, I can't wait to see her face either. It's well hidden at the moment so I don't get tempted to give it to her early x

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    2. I love that you're excited too x

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  4. Ha ha ha this is awesome!! My nephew didnt believe that i used to play pokemon and yeah friends totally buggered my view of adulthood!!
    thanks for linking to #ablogginggoodtime

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    1. Haha, funny how kids refuse to believe we had cool stuff when we were young too ;) x

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