Your passion and your loved ones may not hold hands

Hey writers.

Not ‘aspiring’ writers, or ‘published’ writers, ‘wannabe’ writers or ‘successful’ writers…

Just, writers.

I have something I need to share. It’s important.

No doubt it is something we all, as ‘writers’ of the world, have had to face.

Many will be facing it right now.

And if you haven’t already, you’ll be sure to come across it in your writing life.

At some stage, you would have told some of your loved ones, be it your friends or family, that you wish to write.

You want to write. You do, write.

Even if they have already known it for most of your life, even if it is an assumed thing, writing being your background passion and all… no doubt there will have been a moment where you have said out loud “I am doing this.”

I AM GOING TO TRY MAKE A LIFE OUT OF IT.

You are nervous. You are excited. Hell, maybe even like me, you hold off telling most people out of intense fear of their reaction, and only share your personal news with a total of 10 people over a 5 year period.

And when you share that news with your nearest and dearest…

Excited in the prospect of them being sooo happy in you having discovered your life’s purpose, and have chosen to share something so intimate with them…

Relieved to have released a deep-seeded fear…

What do they do?

NOTHING. You tell them, and –

(crickets chirping).

Yup.

There is something you need to realise on this writing journey. And more widely, something everyone needs to realise as they go through life and discover what it is that drives them crazy-happy with a passionate fury.

It is a thing I myself have had to wrap my head around and come to terms with.

The people you love, may not necessarily love your hobby.

They may actually, not think very much of it.

They won’t hate it. But, it might be something of ‘meh.’

Just, MEH.

This can come across as seriously disappointing, especially for someone like me, who has held off on expressing this hobby and passion of mine, to loved and near and dear ones, for years and years and years simply out of fear.

And then, when the moment came… often I realised, it was a bigger thing for me, than it was for them.

And that is ok.

There may be a whole bevy of reasons why your loved ones and your passion aren’t immediate besties… or for that fact, EVER AFTER besties.

Your loved ones may be really busy.

Your loved ones may not know much about your passion.

Your loved ones may find it suddenly difficult to comprehend your sudden discovery at said-passion, and this in turn may highlight some difficult and unanswerable questions for them… those being, what are their passions? What are they doing in their life?

How are they turning their flame on in the routine of life?

Humans are a fascinating and extremely complex breed, and so you can be assured that all of the possible answers will not even begin to fill the paragraphs of this post.

You will notice I have not mentioned a fairly common reason for lack of excitement at the realisation of your passions… and that is jealousy. I have omitted it because real loved ones will not be jealous. They may exude mixed feelings, because of the sudden need to reflect on their own lives. But they will not be envious. They will not see red simply at your long and topsy-turvy journey to getting to your own pre-determined successful, “I’ve made it” destination.

Jealous people are shit people. They are not your loves ones. Keep them at arms length.

They can go f%*k themselves. You need a strong and supportive circle, so get rid of that crap immediately.

Safe to say, you will realise very quickly and easily, who YOUR circle is.

And as is my case, I’ve realised that my circle don’t necessarily have to start a book club for me.

And why should they? I am the only star in my life… as they are the solo star in theirs.

We all have different shit going on. We need to look humbly around us and realise that.

It’s not personal.

It’s just, LIFE.

Your loved ones and your hobby don’t need to get along. They don’t need to go on long walks together. They don’t need to watch a movie. They don’t need to see each other, scream out in delight and exclaim “it’s been so long since I saw you!” before enveloping one another in a giant hug.

As long as they nod some kind of acknowledgement to each other when they pass… that’s cool.

That’s to be accepted.

Our passion isn’t necessarily anyone else’s. And whether you have held off for 5, 10 or 20 years to tell anyone, it won’t be anymore impressive than if you decided yesterday during brekkie you wanted to be a writer after finding 7 grammatical errors in the local paper.

You need to let go of the idea that your loved ones will be as excited for you, as you are excited for you.

In many cases, this won’t be the fact.

And that’s normal.

We can still love our hobbies…. and we can still love our friends…

But we’ll just make sure we see them on alternating weekends 😉

(Note the below is idealistic, yet highly unrealistic!)

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Photo by Alexis Brown on Unsplash

 

 

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Green servings at Red Hill

Green Olive at Red Hill
1180 Mornington-Flinders Road Main Ridge

(Visited October ’17)

Our winery exploration continued. We had a free Sunday in October, and though a bit dreary at first, it was also a mild day.

We would wine and dine then.

I had heard about some kids activities, such as duck feeding and trampoline jumping on these Main Ridge fields, and when I saw I had a token for free duck food, it make up my mind EVEN more.

Ok, so really? We all know I didn’t need the duck food token to get ourselves quacking on over.

It was the promise of this:

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Once we had driven some distance through endless tree views, and then parked and walked down a long and sloping uneven gravel surface to the restaurant below us, only then did we get a chance to sample some of the above.

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Ahhh.

It was a busy day. We were amazed just how so, and managed to quickly nab ourselves a table outside where it was free for the picking. The inside tables were all full and reserved, and there were quite a few of them too. We grabbed one just outside of the main doors, and proceeded to try and open up the umbrella as precarious drops from the darkening heavens floated on down.

It never rained though, and so we were able to relax.

It is an order-up-at-the-counter establishment. Once we looked through the menus, scanned out toward the vineyards, and looked through the menus again, I headed on inside to place our orders.

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The store is inside as you line up to order, featuring all of the farm-made produce such as their dukkah, olives, oil, and other fine deli produce. Positioning is fantastic especially on a day like that was, as you had a lot of time to fall in love with the various olive bowls, gourmet pastas and even body creams up for sale as you waited in line.

Fantastic strategy for them. Not a good thing FOR ME.

But I controlled myself, and focused on the outcome ahead of me. Order the food. It took a good while, but finally I was at the counter and baby girl and I were ordering our drinks and food.

Which brings us back to the above image. Now as Robert Zemeckis would be proud to hear me say, Back to the Future.

I got some drawing paper and pencils from a ’help yourself’ area inside the café, and then as baby girl got drawing, we observed the quirky garden elements/accessories around us as we waited for our drinks, which took a bit as they were so busy… A 2017 Moscato for me, and a Mornington Peninsula Pale Ale for Hubbie:

It was fabulous. A sorta sunny Sun-day, out with the fam, enjoying the increasing Melbourne warmth, wine… why, it was divine.

The setting was fabulous, but how would the food fare?

The food is tapas style, but we weren’t overly hungry so we were content to get a piece for each of us and share as we pleased. It was hard to find something for baby girl, so we ended up getting some bread and dip, used the dip ourselves and let her dig into the bread. Ahhh, good ol’ carbs.

Beetroot hummus dip, extra virgin olive oil, farm dukkah, ciabatta

and alongside that was Hubbie’s selection of a BBQ Pulled Pork open sandwich, pickled carrot, chilli salt

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And then my choice was Egg frittata filled with garden vegetables, farm made capsicum relish

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They were tapas, and they were presented nicely, but for what we got, we felt $12.95 each was a tad steep. The group of rich older Italians behind us (don’t ask how we know, we just do) also agreed. The older man who reminded Hubbie of his old boss, was saying loudly how they had just spent $200 on tapas between the group of them and were still hungry (see that’s how we know, typical Italians).

Although the food was ok, not amazing but still good, we were still infuriated by the antics of another fellow European on a nearby table. Don’t ask me how I know, I just know. She was with her husband and child, and she was wearing white pants.

You know who wears white pants? Really young teenage girls, extreme beach-dwellers (generally pensioners)… and Europeans.

Also we could hear a slight accent.

She was really horrible. She had a gripe about something, and I do not lie, but she complained and had two different waitresses come over to listen to her whinge on at least 5 separate occasions. She would not let up. It was upsetting to witness for the poor waitresses, and she looked a total mole so I was in total support for the staff. We were trying to eavesdrop as all good people do, thinking she clearly wore the (white) pants in the relationship, when her husband even started up! OMG just go away. Their problem was food-related, and though I wasn’t exactly dancing myself in the seat from the taste sensations in my mouth, I also wasn’t a horrible person to blame the waitress for thinking my meal should be otherwise. There is a way to distribute criticism, and white pants lady, her way was just SHIT.

Hubbie and I were so peeved at their unrelenting and non-stop negativity that WE almost told them to leave. It affected our mood, but we got coffee and dessert and tried to put her white pants and snarky voice behind us.

The cappuccinos were satisfactory as was the babycino (established by how quickly she smashed it down), and the ice cream also so. We held the sauce on the ice cream for baby girl, and I had the coffee crème brulee with biscotti on the side which most definitely had the caffeine kick, whereas Hubbie had a counter brownie – not anything amazing he said.

After that was done we soon claimed our duck food with voucher (detouring off to the in-ground trampoline below the café that baby girl went psycho on for 5 minutes) before we headed down to the lake.

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It had been a mixed duck-bag of experiences. The setting was amazing and worth the visit. We weren’t sure about the food, and were wondering if we had ordered something else, whether that would have been more to our liking.

These thoughts were on our minds as we headed back home…

Food: 7/10. It was ok, but compared to the scenery before us, it was slightly underwhelming.

Coffee: 7.5/10.

Ambience: It was a very relaxed yet refined vibe. Very refined. You were amongst the vineyard and trees and all-round greenery, and yet this greenery had $ attached. See below.

People: We were in Main Ridge, and the people representing showed us we were not in Kansas (or Mornington) anymore with their super designer threads and fancy-schmanc handbags.

Staff: They were exceptionally busy, but good. The manager or boss (don’t ask me, I just know) helped fix our umbrella for us, and the rest were just doing their job on that exceptionally busy Sunday.

Price: I wasn’t keeping receipts each time we ordered, and the girl behind the counter wasn’t offering either – a clever tactic perhaps to keep you from keeping score, or just busy? – but I kept score, and it tallied to about $95. A bit much for tapas, even with alcohol included. That price should have given us larger meals.

Advice: 1) Sit outside on a sunny day, 2) if going on the weekend with a larger group perhaps best to book ahead, and 3) just keep in mind that you might need to order multiple tapas to fulfill your hunger. The accompaniment of wines will make you need MORE.

In a nutshell: It is a lovely place to while the day away on a sunny day, whether with family or friends, or let’s face it even by yourself as all busy Mums will attest. And it is super kid-friendly in the ‘activities’ department, what with the drawing accessories, trampoline and duck feeding on offer, as well as all the walks you can take exploring the grounds which we didn’t end up doing.

The food store itself gives me reason to go back, but food wise, I’ll probably check out all the other Hills on the Peninsula, Red or otherwise, before going back to taste-test their other menu options…

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Green Olive at Red Hill Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

Things that shit me… #16

Things that shit me…

People who can’t wait patiently in queue BEHIND ME.

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Photo by davide ragusa on Unsplash

Yeah, you thought I’d been gone a while with my disposition to get revved up the wall by unsuspectingly stupid people. Ohhh, don’t worry, the stupidity is still rife.

And the annoyances are still damn well irritating as hell.

Like today at the Tesselaar Tulip festival. The day was beautiful and the flowers were spectacular as I expected, but one thing that got to me today…

The people who can’t seem to wait their turn in queue.

SEVERAL TIMES I was waiting for something, making an order or waiting to pay for a drink, and then suddenly I would feel something or someone breathing down my neck.

I would turn slightly and see they were practically resting their chin on my shoulder in their extreme impatience to get served.

Like, wait your bloody turn! We are all here trying to get fed/satiated/made happy by the services, just bloody well calm the F down and step away from me!

UGH! Personal space required much? Man these people are shit!

What they don’t know

It happens everywhere. It probably happens to you, and it definitely happens to me.

Someone speaks nicely to your face… but when your back is turned, the knives come out.

That is a fairly strong example. So let’s narrow it down a bit, and let’s make it a little less brutal, and a tad more ‘everyday life.’

Let’s say someone says beautiful things in front of you… but then doesn’t hold the swear  mute button long enough when they mention you to others.

And what do you do, if you see this? If YOU are privy to this? Do you tell the betrayed? Do you tell them that their ‘friend’ doesn’t treat them with the same love behind-the-scenes as they do in front of the whole world to read, and see?

I have thought of this scenario a lot. Because I have been in it. I am in it.

On the issue of forgiveness, an issue I have toyed with a lot in my life, I have questioned…

How do you forgive someone who has never said sorry? How do you forgive someone who seems ‘changed’ in front of your face, but reverts to two-face when they talk about so-called ‘loved ones?’

Is it any of my business? I mean, if they were being rude to me, sure, I could most definitely step in and speak up. But when they are airing grievances about another…

What should it matter to me?

The problem is, IT DOES matter to me. Because I am all about integrity.

I don’t think you should suck face with someone who you compete with behind their back. I don’t think you should chase them when you compare your child against theirs. I don’t think you should give them loving names, when the names you use behind their back, are anything but.

How does this differ though, to the things we say inside our heads? In the quiet places where no one but us can hear?

Does it differ? Let’s say we don’t like how a person goes about their life. We don’t like their attitude. We don’t like how they criticise others constantly, yet shrivel into nincompoops when they get one smidgen of retaliation in return.

We think “I don’t like that. I don’t like them as a person anymore.”

We say this in our heads.

And then a brutal person, will say it out loud…

Does this differ?

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Photo by Amadeo Muslimović on Unsplash

Do we have any right speaking the words of another, when privately in our heads we are just the same?

But, there is a difference isn’t there. Between someone who tries to make themselves better than others to another’s detriment, and to those who merely see the fakery and don’t wish to promote it any further.

I may say things in my head, but that’s because, I believe ‘they’ deserve it.

I spent several years wishing to sever ties with someone completely, and then kind of half did it… now I’ve spent the next lot of them wondering if it is at all possible to do, and if I would do it, would I feel good about it?

There is such a thing as a toxic person. One who does no good for you. A judgmental, critical, self-obsessed, domineering and dogmatic person. One who plays the victim, them versus the world, and if you don’t play your cards according to their game, them versus YOU.

At one point, in the present day, if you see this person trying to somewhat make a better life for themselves, do you forgive? Do you forget? Do you move on with your life, with your relationship with them, if they say sorry?

What if they never say sorry? What if they go on with their life pretending nothing ever happened, with no acknowledgment of your past hurts, betrayals, hurtful words, snide comments, rude remarks, put downs, ignorant sneers, harmful actions, and gross gross negligence of your loved ones… what if they were slightly different, but never made proper amends to YOU?

And what about if they were different to you, but continued to speak badly about others…

NOW we are full circle. Now, you get it.

This is where I struggle.

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Photo by CloudVisual on Unsplash

I am ALL for retribution. In particular, my main motto with those who do wrong, are that they need to be held accountable. They need to PAY.

What would the wronged do, if they knew how disparagingly their friends had spoken about them to others? I’ve seen this also in my work life, where one particular two-face smooths everyone over to their face, and then uses all manner of trickery, lies and under-handed tactics to diminish their character to other colleagues.

But then… they suddenly learn. Or so it seems.

Should these wronged people forgive and move on? Can you accept that people can change for the better? Is it better to know, or not know, what people have said or thought about you?

Do you hold onto hating the angry person that used to exist? Or do you give them the benefit of the doubt, and hope that the nice words they say to your face, are mirrored when you walk away?

At what stage do we forgive? Where is the fine line where we say “this person is a relation in time, so I forgive” or “that guy generally includes me in everything at work so I’ll let that mass nasty email he sent about me, slide.”

When do we let go, and when do we just say NO?

And when do we turn our cheeks the other way, and when do we stand up and speak out to help others?

I still have no answers. Please inform me if YOU do ♥

Things that shit me… #15

Things that shit me…

People that get my coffee order wrong… and then give me ‘squinty eye.’

No, I am not an unforgiving, bitch-face, rigid, uncompromising, cold person who doesn’t realise people can get things wrong.

We are all human. I get things wrong too.

But when someone makes an error, and makes it out to be my fault… and it collides with one of my loves, coffee…

WATCH OUT.

Today I ordered at the café I always get my afternoon coffee at when I have a late shift at work. I walked in, an easy 20 minutes before starting time, happy that today, unlike other days, I wouldn’t be rushing. I was on time. I was even, if you can say, early.

I placed my usual coffee order of ‘medium cap with one’ with a newish-looking lady there, and then stood back to wait. It was 50 cents dearer today, but who knows, maybe the price had gone up in the few weeks since I had last had an afternoon shift.

The barista, who was not new, looked up at me, with some slight hesitation when she called out a coffee order only moments later.

I heard her say ‘cap,’ and ‘one sugar,’ but what was that other nonsense? I moved closer.

“Almond milk cappuccino with one sugar?”

I shook my head.

“No, I ordered a medium cap with one sugar.”

The newish woman was behind her, and hearing the exchange, made a confused, squinty, almost “okkkkaaaaayyyy nnnnoooooowwwwww!” face as the barista spilt out the whole almond milk cap, only to start again.

Almond milk cappuccino lady? I had ordered a medium cappuccino! She had mis-heard me, and as I watched, continued to keep this confused, squinty look on her face the whole time, as the barista recommenced my order.

I kept staring at her. This squinty-faced newish lady did not look at me. She didn’t call out a ‘sorry-for-the-inconvenience-of-waiting-for-another-one-in-lieu-of-my-f&%k-up’; she didn’t even smile apologetically. She just stood there in the background, watching the barista fix her mistake, without so much as an acknowledgement to me.

And when my ‘med cap with one’ was called out, I confirmed it definitely was that, before adding “I paid $5.00 for my coffee, do I need to get any money back?”

The barista nodded she would fix it up, and asked squinty-faced newish lady to go get me my 50 cents. And then walking over, she handed it to me, without so much as anything remotely offering consolation on her part. I said “thanks,” when really I wanted to thank her by removing that ill-placed confusion from her face.

She stuffed up my order, AND didn’t care to give me my money back?

I don’t expect the right royal red carpet of apologies when someone gets something wrong. I don’t expect them to mutter sorry repeatedly under their breath either. Nor do I think they should be kissing my feet and begging for my forgiveness.

All I am asking for is recognition and accountability. When someone can’t even give a small “whoops, sorry, my bad!” and a wave of their hand, and still they make me feel like it was ME…

Sorry, I’m OUT. When you get shit service like that, don’t be surprised when people walk… Looking for a new coffee place, because…

When people get my coffee wrong and aren’t even sorry for it, that really SHITS ME.

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An open letter to those I love…

A critical letter.

So often in life we talk to those closest to us about those that upset us. Shit us. Rev us up the wrong way. We critique them and bad-mouth them, complaining ’til the cows come home about all the things we so detest about these people.

How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways…

It is so easy to poke the finger and make negative comment when it is about people we do not care much for… and yet when our loved ones make us find fault in them, it is a bit harder to swallow.

You don’t want to hurt them. You don’t want to make them sad. You don’t want any suggestive words spoken to affect the relationship. You remain quiet, hoping they will fix themselves, by themselves.

They never do.

So here is my open letter:

Dear loved one,

I know there are people who have lied, and deceived you. I know you have been hurt more than words can say, and that in turn has left you distrusting and guarded, speculative and wary.

But believe me, people are not all out to get you. Please do not squint your eyes at everyone. Firstly, that is rude. Secondly, I hurt for you when you do that, and like the innocent people you judge unfairly, they start to judge you back… and I can’t stand that. I can’t defend you. I can’t win.

Dear loved one,

We have so much to say, right? But please let me say it. I know you think you can read my thoughts, or you know where I am headed in my speech. But I want to say it anyway. I want a chance to be heard. I just want to hear myself talking out loud, the way I let you do so often.

I may not go on as much, but that is because I get side-tracked and my mind never stops. I may not divulge so many details, but that’s because I am afraid of getting hurt. I may not express it all, but that’s because I fear the blab-mentality.

Please, just breathe. Don’t assume.

Dear loved one,

Don’t get all prim and proper on me now. Where has that spark gone? That glint in your eyes, that constant youthful laughter? Life is hard, I know it is hard… YOU know it is hard. But try to remember where it all began. Make it simple again. Don’t try too hard. It’s ME here. Remember that.

I want you to start the day laughing, and don’t stop ’til nightfall. Then I will know you are back.

Dear loved one,

Please say more. I know you have been knocked down. I want to hear you speak more. I want to hear your voice. I want you to muck about as you used to. Most importantly I want to see you smile.

Don’t lose Hope, loved one. I haven’t.

Dear loved one,

I know you want to make me happy. But listen to my version of happiness – don’t impose upon me YOURS. When I say I want something, please understand that is what I mean! You know me well… but I know myself better.

Dear loved one,

You are not the first, and you are not the last. Calm the f^%k down. Also, grow up.

Dear loved one,

Maybe when I wronged you, you thought it was intentional… but I didn’t realise what I was doing. However, you ‘getting me back’ is a conscious decision. Don’t play games.

(TIMES TWO).

Dear loved one

I know you wonder, ‘what happened?’ I honestly can’t remember anymore. But I thought we were stronger than a slow and prolonged absence due to ‘assumptions.’

Pretty weak huh?

Dear loved one,

I don’t know… do you actually like me? Or do you want to keep me around so you can continually judge me? I try to respect you and give you the friendship our years deserve… and yet I find myself hating you more.

Do you hate me more with every day, too?

Dear loved one,

You actually don’t know everything. Try to sound surprised, because I know you are.

 

Very Sincerely,

SmikG.

 

 

 

 

 

Things that shit me… #14

…People who ask you unreasonable questions that you will undoubtedly give a negative answer to, making you feel like a total effin failure in the process.

Examples:

“Have you made a Christmas tree-shaped watermelon with your daughter yet?”

Nope, I’m a shit Mum. Not carving up fruit together makes all of my Mothering useless.

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(Pointing to a clearly Masterchef-styled ice cream cake) “Did you make that?”

Nope, I bought it AT A SHOP. I’m a cop-out for not spending 12 hours of my day sweating it out in the kitchen, layering different textures together and freezing them individually, to bring you the absurdly Heston Blumenthal-style design in front of me.

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“Please don’t go to any effort for us.”

Actually, I wasn’t going to, but your passive aggressive request makes me feel like an unhospitable tool for not even considering giving you a 7-course degustation meal in the first place.

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Photo by Lily Lvnatikk on Unsplash

“Can I have some salt?”

Apologies my food tastes like shit.

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Photo by Mira Bozhko on Unsplash

“Wow, that is so good of you to do that, I never would have expected it!”

Because I am a horrible, HORRIBLE person.

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Photo by Brooke Cagle on Unsplash

You: “What would you like to drink?”

(Asks for a specific drink that you will not have)

Sorry I am not Dan Murphy’s. But I will give you a good dose of scotch, coke, and a refreshing lemon wedge of swift kick-up-the-arse…

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Photo by Eaters Collective on Unsplash

 

 

 

Things that shit me… #13

Things that shit me…

Drivers who speed up when you need to get in their lane.

I mean, I was in an area, a road I don’t use often. I had google maps to help me, but still, when I saw I was soon turning right, I didn’t also realise at that stage I could have stayed in my current lane, as 3 lanes were turning right.

I saw the little white, bullshit car speeding up, coming up fast from behind me. I know I jumped in front, but I swear it wasn’t a dangerous manoeuvre…

…The little shit box stayed close, clearly pissed that I had gotten in front of them, despite my indicator, despite their speed, and BEEPED!

I saw the driver in my rear-view mirror, motion left and right, and I was like “geez dude, you’re kidding me right?”

I put a hand up, in a motion of “sorry” and CALM THE FUCK DOWN.”

They went back to their soap box, and I sat there. Silently fuming. 

Because although I had jumped in front of them, I had felt I had no choice at the time.

And they, despite my driving manners (i.e. clear indicator), decided I shouldn’t be let in.

The mother-f%^er sped up.

I wondered:

Would that driver be the type of person to push in at the supermarket check-out in front of an elderly hobbling grandfather, or a struggling Mum with screaming kids?

Would that driver be the type of person to take the last piece of shared cake from the work communal kitchen, and then whinge that it was all gone?

Would that driver be the type of person to take their dog for a walk, and let it shit on someone else’s lawn AND NOT PICK IT UP?

Would that driver be the type of person to complain loudly of anyone making noise in a movie theatre, and yet continue to receive loud notifications and calls from their phone?

Would that driver be the type of person to complain of beetroot in their burger, even when they clearly had seen the menu description and don’t even like it in the first place?

Yep. Yep, that driver is probably ALL of those things.

Shit people.

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Photo by Kevin Lee on Unsplash

‘Been there, done that’: A stressed Mum speaks up

One of the most frustrating things about being a Mum, is the judgment you face.

It’s bad enough when it is from a non-parent, one who has no idea of the trials and tribulations you go through to get by, day by day.

“Why do they eat that?”

“Why DON’T they eat that?”

“They go to sleep how late?”

“They don’t take any more naps?!”

“She needs to come out of her shell more.”

“She is too boisterous for her own good.”

“She craves attention from adults constantly” (this from baby girl’s kindergarten teacher – she is 3 for God’s sake!)

“She is very energetic!” (from the same teacher – and that is bad, how?)

But when you get judgment from a parent, one who has ‘been there, done that,’ and is well past the tried true and tested toddler stage, well, it’s shit.

Even worse if their critique is aimed not at your child… but at YOU.

“Why are you so stressed?”

It HURTS.

Judgement, from a parent who knows how it’s like, is really upsetting. I often wonder how that parent felt when they were dealing with one, or multiple little people all at the one time, and think of how they would have taken to such life-changing advice, from someone who had almost all but forgotten what it is like.

“Don’t be so upset. Relax.”

Because it is that easy. While you are in the throws, in life’s midst of teaching your child manners, toilet training, speech, not to finger suck, how to play fairly, how to not break things, how to not crack the shits every time things don’t turn out the way she/he wants, I am just meant to turn a blind eye and go

“Oh WTF. Stuff it all. Let me down this tequila.”

I am meant to shirk all parenting responsibilities and duties, and let them be, as they want to be.

And then what happens –

When the finger gets stuck in the door frame

She falls down the stairs

She chokes on a tiny object

She falls into a pool

She runs off into a darkened crowd

She climbs under the DJ table pulling out a cord and electrocuting herself

She ends up in the middle of the Main street

She wanders off on the beach

She goes up to that strange dog

ALL because no one was around. Because I was chilling and letting my hair down and “not stressing, man!”

Who picks up the pieces?

Who is to blame?

Who is judged???

I am. The Mother. The one who gave life, is the one who is given the most crap. Time and time and time and time and time and time and time again.

Look, I get it. The having fun part. It’s not like I’m a stickler for the rules, and I actually enjoy yelling “no!” all the time. I remember what it’s like to party. I remember what it’s like, (though very faintly), to not worry about anyone but ME. I remember how it’s like to wander wherever I like at a whim, whenever it suits, child-friendly areas or not.

I give baby girl plenty of room and choices to make up her own mind and do her own thing. I am not constantly stressing, helicoptering around her and grabbing her hand at every curious impulse of hers. I hang back and watch, but I am also, always, on guard.

You have to be, as a parent. It’s a very fine line of letting her learn and discover, while trying to look out for warning clues of impending trouble.  I mean, why would I carelessly put her in the firing line of trouble, when trouble and toddler are so unanimously tied together, naturally?

But I made a choice, about 4 years ago. I made a choice that in conjunction with Hubbie, we were going to love, cherish and nurture a little human being that was an amazing yet simultaneously super-challenging mix of the two of us.

When she gets hurt, she runs to me. When she needs comfort, she runs to me. Anything wrong that happens – she comes crying, yelling “MA!”Mum picks up the pieces. Mum needs to look after everything. Everyone looks to Mum, when baby girl is crying… no matter what, why, or how.

I don’t need someone who has passed the phase, to be telling me to relax. Turn a blind eye. “Chill a bit.”

I just want those parents to understand, and remember. That is all.

And for all those childless couples thinking that they will do SOOOO much better when they are a parent?

HA!

Move straight to the centre

Radius Restaurant
RACV Resort, 70 Cape Paterson-Inverloch Road Inverloch

(Visited June ’16)

Our trip to Inverloch in June 2016 was in celebration of many things. And it was our first family holiday together as one, so it made sense that there were people and events to celebrate.

When I say family, I mean ‘family,’ in the all-encompassing, all-inclusive sense.

Road tripping it over was myself, Hubbie and baby girl… my MIL… my parents… my sister, bro-in-law, and my two nephews.

It was a BIG one.

Although it was a very short trip, it was jam-packed and still a lot of fun.

On the night we arrived, we dressed ourselves up and headed on over into the dining quarters of Radius, the restaurant at the RACV resort that we were staying at.

If you can stay at the RACV resort, do it. You have so much accessible to you, the rooms are new and modern and luxurious, and then you have a view like this from your window.

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Highly, strongly recommended. So, back to the restaurant. There was a fairly big group of us, so it was a given that one of us had booked ahead to guarantee a table. We arrived by 7pm, and it took a while to settle with so many.

After all that though, we started getting into the holiday spirit with some drinks

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and then it was the long and arduous task of deciding what to order.

Not that there weren’t any good meals. It was just that our parents wanted ‘easy,’ ‘simple,’ ‘recognisable’ options, and translating what everything was, and what they would eventually get (understanding some menus requires study in itself) took a bit of effort.

Our waitress was lovely from the outset. She was kind and extremely accommodating, not at all like the nose-in-air customers who were dining nearby, looking over questioningly every time baby girl or my nephew made a sound. They did it with such rudeness, when they weren’t even being that noisy, that I almost asked THEM to leave. The inconsiderate nature of some people just astounds me.

But the waitress worked hard to make us happy, even telling sis that we could chill out on the empty table behind us, if it helped to make my nephew happier.

She had forgotten our bread rolls early on, but that was easily forgotten with her kind gestures, making her the ideal waitress that night.

Baby girl spent some time drawing in those small kid’s packs that come with some paper, 4 crayons and a sheet of stickers. That kept her busy, keeping us relieved.

When our food came, we were all raring to go.

I got the Bass Coast fettuccine, roasted cauliflower, charred corn, with gruyere cheese sauce and toasted hazelnuts

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Hubbie got the Porterhouse with red wine jus, with duck fat roasted baby potatoes and a resort salad, and an additional side of Steamed vegetables, local olive oil (not pictured)

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And finally baby girl had Chicken Nuggets, chips and salad

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Baby girl’s meal was good and even we ended up pecking away as the minutes ticked on! All our meals were pretty enjoyable, I enjoyed my fettucine, the hazelnuts gave it a definite crunch, and it was a very creamy and satisfying dish, which I didn’t eat all of, only so I could make some room from the desserts I was eyeing off in the display cabinet.

Hubbie was happy with the preparation of his meat, it was done as he liked. He enjoyed the meal, and though it was substantial, he felt it was missing something, and needed a bit more beside the meat, potato and salad component. Nonetheless, he was still happy.

There were main meals, entrees, and sharing plates everywhere. By the time we were done with that, the waitress suggested we could go into the adjoining bar area, where we could lounge out on the couches there and have our coffee and cake delivered to us!

So, why not?

The 10 of us meandered across and fixed ourselves over about 3 couches, before indulging in some yummy coffee and desserts

I got a cap and a mango ‘something.’ I don’t remember the name, but I know there was a pistachio cake layer, pistachios, jelly, mango of course, and a custard. I didn’t like the cake part, but I preferred the creamy/jelly/mango layer on the bottom. So it was half good, half not. The cappuccino was smooth and easily knocked back after all of that food.

After drinking and eating some more, and baby girl going out of her way to greet everybody… it was nearing ‘late’ time, and we so we headed off down the hallway… just a minute or two walk to our rooms 🙂

Food: 8/10. Good menu, and satisfying food.

Coffee: 8/10.

Ambience: It was warm and relaxing, yet there was enough noise to still put you at ease and not have to worry that you were dining in a library (ahem, nose-in-the-air diners).

People: Apart from the above annoying people, there were a lot of families and groups, being a resort restaurant.

Staff: Our waitress was overly accommodating if there is such a term. Brilliant, so lovely and genuinely warm.

Price: Surprisingly, for our large group, where there was a multitude of drinks and all kinds of meal plates, as well as desserts and coffee, it only came to $205! I actually can’t believe that, but it was true. So clearly I am saying, due to this it was definitely value for $$$.

Advice: Book ahead, being a restaurant within the RACV resort, it is a given to be busy most nights.

In a nutshell: I really enjoyed this resort, as we all did, and because of the fond memories made there, both at the resort and restaurant, how could I not want to go back? We dined at Radius for breakfast the following morning, and I can confirm their consistency, as the buffet breakfast selection was great.

The holiday was short and sweet, but so, so good. I want to go back, now.

Radius at RACV Resort. Keep it on your radar. And then zoom in.

RACV Inverloch Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato