Things that shit me… #12

Things that shit me…

People who stare at you when your child is going off their head.

Mole-customer from Chocolat café in Mornington, I’M TALKING TO YOU.

So, unless you are a parent yourself, you might not know, that it is often REALLY, REALLY hard wrangling kids. You may have the best of intentions, and want them to use their manners, and want them to keep quiet, and want them to smile, and want them to learn how to adult, really… at the tender and naïve age of 3.

That’s not unreasonable, right?!

However, often the 3 year-olds themselves often think it is. And the people who stare you down when your child doesn’t behave like they’re 33, THEY sure think it is unreasonable when they don’t behave.

A couple of months ago I was in the supermarket with baby girl. She was being awesome. Listening to me, helping me, understanding when it was time to move on, and just generally being a star.

Another Mum approached with her kids. And one of her tots, absolutely CRACKED it. She lost the plot. The poor Mum tried to go about her business and quieten the child, who appeared as if she was possessed by some demon.

I wanted to cry. I felt for the Mum so badly. I nearly offered to go over and help her out, pick her groceries, even hold her demon child for her, but then remembered the golden rule – IGNORE her.

Other people about me turned at the incessant screams, and I nearly went over to slap them. I wanted to yell at them: “Stop it! Don’t look! Leave her be!”  I knew what it was like to be in that horrible situation, where a child is misbehaving and just won’t be settled no matter what you do. I know the pain of embarrassment. I know the anxiety. I know how upsetting it is to get those stares.

I know, because I have been there.

Yesterday case in point.

So, baby girl, is the best thing on this planet. She is so clever, cute and charming, already at her young age. I swear, if she were to go up to you and start babbling as she does, if you were not to smile, I would immediately assume you to be an alien, or some foreign creature that has no compassion. A shark would show compassion to her, that is the adorable depth of her influence.

Simultaneously, sometimes she can shit me really well. Really well up the wall. Often it has to do with her not getting what she wants, which is a problem, because very often kids, and adults alike, can’t get what they want. This is part of the general growing up process.

She was in a funny type of mood as we were enjoying some lunchtime pastries and coffee at Chocolat yesterday at midday. The food is delicious, coffee superb, yet the café itself is tiny, cramped, and every little cry from a rascal toddler, becomes so much more unbearable in such a confined space.

Unbearable to just me. Imagine what the other diner’s think.

So when your child yells, and despite your best efforts, you cannot for the love of God calm them down, do you know what it is acceptable to do?

Pretend they don’t exist and go on with your life.

Look away.

Keep talking.

Keep drinking.

Keep eating.

Look out the window.

Laugh with your friends.

Stare off into space.

DO NOT, EVER, EVER, EVER, STARE.

Do you know what this mole-customer and her partner did?

They pointedly turned to us at baby girl’s first outburst. Not a quick glance over the shoulder ‘what is happening over there?’ look, but a ‘I-am-a-bitch-from-hell-and -I-will-stare-you-down-for-thinking-you-can-café-with-a-toddler’ type look.

(For those parents playing at home, baby girl was upset because we were not letting her dip her finger into the nutella centre of our takeaway doughnuts. Yep.)

So we breathed, and quickly let her dip her finger into the freaking centre. Ok, we were now to leave. She was getting antsy, we had to get out, PRONTO.

Hubbie was out the door with my bag and the tray of doughnuts, and I got up to follow after him, holding baby girl’s hand.

But wait! Yell! She indicated that she wanted to open the door herself, and then we could exit the café. Breathing rapidly, I said “ok, open the door,” praying to God that we would get out before any other interference occurred.

To my dismay, another customer started through the door, entering into the shop, stopping baby girl in her tracks.

Another yell! Ahhh!

I scolded her. I don’t condone any rude behaviour or outburst, especially when it appears she is losing her shit at a stranger. NOT ON.

So I tried to grab her and pull her out the door, but she just did her floppy, ‘I-will-hang-around-and-throw-myself-on-the-floor’ bit.

And then she started to crack it, AGAIN. From the corner of my eye, I saw the mole-customer turn in her seat, and just sit there, watching us.

Like we were a fucking play.

In quiet enraged fury, I grabbed baby girl and hauled her up on my waist, and stormed out the door.

Yes, baby girl got a really good talking to in the half hour that followed. There were many tears and sighs and hugs and kisses and sorry’s to make up for the shitty incident.

Baby girl is 3. She is still learning. But you know who should fucking know better?

That mole-customer at the café. You, lady, should know your manners. Do not stare when a child is misbehaving. Firstly, it is NONE of your business.

Secondly, who taught you YOUR manners? There is some failure of the learned transference of human compassion there, since you STARE at a difficult and highly troubling incident for both parent and child, rather than choosing to ignore it and accepting, that children are children.

You, MOLE, are a bitch-cow. Anyone who does this, and stares while a child is having a meltdown, and the poor parent is doing everything to diffuse the situation as quietly and quickly as they can, FUCK YOU. With a royal middle finger too.

If anyone is still reading this, and not afraid to continue this conversation, honestly, what do you think? Do you think people should mind their own business, and not sticky-beak when a child is having a meltdown in a public place, or should parents just not go anywhere with their kids until they’re at least 21?

???

 

 

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Failing at reading

I’d like to show you something:

screenshot-2017-02-27-17-01-26

Other than not knowing how to screenshot, if you look even closer, you will see that on my Goodreads account, I started reading Sense and Sensibility…

in (shock horror) February of 2015.

2 freaking years ago.

Not even I realised how bad I was until logging in to update my progress.

It’s taken me over 600 days to finish a book, which though slightly hard to engage with at first, I grew to love, with Austen teasing me throughout about what, and how, certain things were going to play out.

It’s not that I don’t read. I love it, so so much. I wish I had more time for it. But, things happened last year, and though I turned to the book, time and time again, reading chapters here, chapters there, the fact that we had a massive life overhaul, what with Sea changing and all, meant that there were so many other things to take care of, and that still need taking care of… that taking time out to enjoy a very fave pastime of mine, just felt selfish.

This here my friends, is a lesson in failure. Observe the following 2016 reading challenge I participated in last year:

screenshot-2017-02-27-17-02-54

Have a look at that, really, have a good look at that.

I pledged to read 10 books. Not much I thought. 10 books a year, equated to just under one book a month. That didn’t seem at all impossible, but as mentioned above, Sea change, and all I ended up reading was 2 books.

2 books.

2 books!

And during that time I was about half way through Austen’s book too.

I don’t feel oddly embarrassed. A little ashamed, maybe, because you know, being a Writer and all, and wanting to write for a living, well you feel a bit pathetic when your main bread and butter, the act of reading to help you write – you fail miserably at.

I failed miserably, I know.

I have excuses. I have reasons. Do I need to justify them to anyone? To make people believe that I am a legitimate writer, that I am worthy of the “Writer” title?

No. My online writing presence is enough. I am a busy person. I have a life. And sometimes, things don’t go to plan.

Many times, things don’t go to plan.

It doesn’t mean however, that we shouldn’t plan, or strive towards certain goals.

The lesson here is this.

Firstly, don’t feel bad for taking time out to read, if it is something you love to do – writing-related or not. We should all give ourselves a break now and then, even if it is while waiting in line to pay a bill, on your lunch break at work, or late at night when the house is quiet. For a creative mind, it is necessary.

Second, shit happens. It almost always does. So if your well-tuned ideas and visions don’t turn out the way you’d like – don’t despair. Don’t use it as a reason to give up.

Never use ANY thing as a reason to give up.

Just say “oh well,” and move on. Or my favourite “PLOT TWIST!” and then see what scene the chapter of your life will play out for you next.

I’m already thinking of what I will read next. And I think the well overdue “Girl on a Train” book that I borrowed off Hubbie’s cousin, LAST YEAR, is definitely next in line…

(If you’d like to be Goodreads friends and have an account of your own, my profile name is Smikg…)

 

What’s the Big Deal about 2016 anyway?

It first started as a few funny online photos and memes.

‘2016, bleh,’

‘This is how my 2016 has been,’ – a man getting run over by a getaway trolley,

and then there was the one that showed Buffy sucking a lollypop that said ‘me at the beginning of 2016,’ next to an image of her post – demon fighting with hair dishevelled and looking insanely disrupted, with the caption ‘me at the end of 2016.’

I got a bit mad there. Not because they used Buffy – that was cool. I was shitty that people were treating the past year as if it was an other-worldly force, and they were the slayer, and they had battled demons from an open hellmouth and almost, just survived to tell the tale.

Let’s be honest. I’m sure there are people who have battled their figurative demons in 2016. In terms of world percentages, they are probably a small portion compared to those who bitch and whinge and moan that it was a bad year, when all that really happened was that guy dumped them, and they found out the other guy they’d been going after was actually gay.

Or that guy lost out his promotion to that arrogant arse-sucking snivelling tie-wearing suit, or he had to move back in with his parents, or he had to eat rice and tuna for one month of the year to make ends meet.

I’m sure, shit has happened to EVERYONE this past year. Because guess what? Life goes UP…

…And life goes DOWN.

And to think that it can go in any other direction than those, or that it will continue to stay up, and will never get dark, is just not very conducive or responsible, mature or wise, to anyone’s way of living.

What I’m getting at is this: There are too many people out there focusing on the bad that happened in the last year, when guess what? Bad things happen EVERY YEAR.

They can happen every month.

They can happen every week.

They can happen every day.

And they can happen every moment.

Sometimes luck is involved, and you may not come across a bad incident, scenario or situation for quite a while…

And at other times, your attitude determines everything.

Backtrack a bit. Your attitude ALWAYS determines everything.

Its not to say that horrible, terrible, life and death and sickly things happen all the time. They do. They really truly do, and that is scary stuff. One can be completely forgiven for breaking down and curling into a ball when it actually does. And you can call out 2016 for being the worst year of your life, and shout and scream at it until the clock strikes midnight at 2017.

But, having a bad month?

Your child shitting you up the wall?

Depressed because you can’t find a house?

Oh, you drive too far to work?

What’s that, the broccoli from the supermarket is smelly?

It’s been cold the first 3 weeks of summer?

Oh damn, your morning coffee just got burnt.

And what about not having your heating working in the coldest part of the year?

Poor, poor you.

I’ve used many examples above of things that Hubbie and I have expressly been subject to over the last few months. And although many of these things were annoyances, and setbacks, through the hardship and whinging, we still got up, we still moved on, we still put our chins up, and learnt to look at and focus on the things that were really good in our lives.

And they were really good.

You have to know the difference between life-changing, or plot twist. One of my favourite quotes is the below one, as it really puts things in perspective:

plot_twist

Shit happens every year guys. It happens all the time. Think of that next time they stuff up your order at the posh restaurant, or your friend backstabs you to the girl-group.

Go to a different restaurant next time.

Tell that friend to go jump.

Just MOVE ON.

Because this is YOUR life, and you should live it fully, focusing on what’s best, fantastic, and joyful around you… and if you do, your good fortune, favourable days and happy circumstances, will genuinely multiply.

And if you don’t… well then every one of your days, weeks, months and years on earth, will be just… bleh.

Your choice.

Really.

 

 

 

Cancelling Plans

You’re either a person who cancels, or a person who commits and comes through with your pre-spoken words… right? Well, that’s how I saw it for a LONG time. People who cancelled plans, cancelled appointments, made last-minute changes, and didn’t come through on what they had promised were all part of one big category for me – the unreliable and scatterbrained ones were the ‘cancellers.’

It was awfully inefficient to cancel on someone. I didn’t really notice how much it bugged me, but every so often when a fellow friend would say “sorry, my kid is sick,” or a meeting was stuffed up on the other end, or someone arrived at my house an hour past the expected time while I twiddled my thumbs staring at the clock, it kind of grated on my nerves. I mean, I was a Mum. I had a child. I worked, I kept the house (somewhat) clean and in a state of organised mess. I cooked. I saw my parents. I wrote as much as I damn well could. I shopped a fair bit, with caffeine inserted in the blank spaces in-between. So if I could get my shit together and not cancel on someone, and always come through on what I had promised somebody, well what was their excuse?

I wouldn’t get upset or anything. You know the normal “no, that’s ok!” response you do when someone is profusely apologising to you, smiling through your teeth. That’s ok, I love my plans being turned upside down. Mums LOVE unpredictability, it reminds them of how fun it is to have a toddler. (No really, I’m being sarcastic). I’d move on, a bit peeved, but I’d move on. I was not a canceller. I was efficient, and despite some of the hardest of times, I tried my damn-dest to succeed at following through on my plans. You know that quote from Jerry Maguire, where the father of the sports kid that Jerry is chasing to represent, says to Jerry “My word is stronger than oak!” (Before completely doing a 180 on him in a following scene and proving that his word was actually more flimsy like tissue paper). Well that was me. My word was oak. Strong and solid, like the first scene, not the second.

Cancelling isn’t only annoying when plans don’t go ahead… it’s an inconvenience. I am so busy, and not only that, I’m in a regular routine especially with a toddler in tow who also depends heavily on it, that it takes much effort and faith to just schedule time in for someone, and then to have that person go ahead and make other plans last second. Even if they are sick, a little part of me is thinking ‘hypochondriac… toughen up.’

A little while back, (not my last cold but a previous cold) all of a sudden, out of the blue, I got sick. Not runny nose, sore throat, sneezing like Snow White’s dwarf sick. I woke up and vomited. And then vomited. And vomited. And not much was being kept down. I had camomile tea, I had black coffee, and I had plain bread. And I still vomited. It was like the deepest depths of my stomach were being unearthed to unseen archaeologists digging away at it, throwing up bits of food as they went.

And what happened? I became the ‘canceller.’

I hated it. I called one person to cancel an appointment I’d had for baby girl. It was literally an hour before I had to go, and I cancelled on her, practically last second. Then the following day, when I was still getting over my stomach heaving, and getting used to that constant feeling of intense nausea, I had a friend message me:

“Still good for lunch today?”

Crap. We were meant to be meeting for lunch at work, and here I was at home, feeling sorry for myself on the couch.

Toughen up, hypochondriac.

Oh God, not another one. With remorse I messaged her back telling her I was sick and was actually at home. She replied this:

“Oh sweetheart. That’s terrible. Hope you feel better soon.”

She went on to say what other days suited her for a lunch date, but those first few lines stayed in my head. What she had written had shocked me. They shocked me, because I had felt them to be genuine. For all I know she could have been doing the typical “oh no! That’s ok!” line I used to do, but I didn’t believe it to be so. This felt real, and all I remember thinking is ‘She cares about me, more than our plans.’

That realisation really hit me. I had been so concerned about life and things running to schedule, that I’d forgotten that life often throws us things and puts us off track. It can sometimes take a while to jump back on. But with the help and support of loved ones, it’s often done faster than if you have people jeering you from the sidelines calling you a hypochondriac. I was also touched by how Hubbie took over and did everything for baby girl and I in those days that I was incapacitated. Hypochondriac, I know. But I’m always doing EVERYTHING, so for me to just lie there and whisper repeatedly “I can’t,” he knew something serious was up. He came through for us all and had me saying “thank you” like a very broken record.

I had a great opportunity to test my new found realisation of ‘shit happens, people matter more than plans’ discovery very soon after. The following night, Hubbie grew increasingly ill and took to the couch complaining of nausea, 3 hours before we were meant to go out for my bestie’s birthday. He had caught what I’d had.

Now the old me, would have been a little shitty. The old me would have been like ‘are you sure you’re sick? Come on, put on this shirt.’ The old me would have been upset at the sight of Hubbie lying on the couch while I imagined all my friends together at a rooftop bar. The old me would have been, slightly resentful, just at the situation, and how shit the timing was.

Bu I’d had a few days to think. Going through my head were these thoughts:

1. Remember, people are more important than plans.

2. Hubbie looked after me days ago.

3. He’s only sick because he caught what I had.

I was soon running off to the pharmacy for late night medications and messaging bestie a ‘sorry’ message on the way.

Being sick had taught me many things.

We’re all human.

Shit happens.

People are more important.

Don’t lose sight of that.

I used to fight against reality, pretend to be superhuman, and get upset when other people didn’t try to be a superhero too. But, we aren’t in an episode of Angel (unfortunately). I can’t stay up fighting demons all night and then expect to be cheery the next day and ready to tackle my Mum duties with a hop, skip and a jump.

Don’t get me wrong, I won’t become a ‘canceller’ over this, and I will be slightly wary whenever anyone changes plans on me… but I will be softer about it, and when I say “no, that’s ok,” I might just half mean it.