About a year ago, I wrote about going off in public like a short-fused rocket.
Seems not a lot has changed, except back then I was probably a bit more ’ballsy’. Now, I’m way more sensitive and hide behind my chocolate slabs instead of giving people a piece of my mind.
I’m taking some inspiration from my post last year - it’s time to hitch up my stockings which are dragging at the crotch. I’m a new woman tomorrow – No More Mrs Nice Mommy – but this time, I mean it.
Today in the shopping centre when Aiden lay down on the floor for one of his classic shopping centre tantrum meltdowns and Jon Jon started screaming for the car park and I was attracting the most denigrating looks from the public, that’s when I cracked.
Two elderly ladies, who looked like they took cosmetic surgery advice from Joan Rivers at least 20 times each, started shaking their heads at me and then at each other in agreement and muttered some remarks to each other in reference to the scene of my two babies unleashing terror on the shopping centre. I turned to them in a pool of sweat and asked if they were talking to me. They replied that they were not but that they were saying to each other that they were concerned that I was going to drop the baby as I strapped him into my baby backpack pouch.
I then decided not to grin and shrug it off like I usually do in my simmering politeness. Instead I answered back saying, in a slightly abrupt tone, that I wasn’t intending to drop my baby off my back and that it’s just difficult trying to shop and wrangle two youngsters without any help. I then wheeled Aiden off in the trolley with Jon Jon tucked in the back pouch and I felt so proud of myself for standing up for myself against these two unwell-wishers who tried to pass judgement over me without actually offering any constructive assistance of any sort.
It then dawned on me that I am utterly sick of being Mr Nice Guy, or Mrs Nice Mommy as it were. From now on, I will say and do as I please when the moment calls for it. One of my good friends, a wise mom of four young boys recently told me that people really don’t feel sorry for you when you’re in a time of need. Rather, people don’t give a damn about what you’re going through and will just kick you when you’re down.
So I am not going to just put up and shut up anymore, I am totally going to stand up for myself. So then next time the woman in the checkout queue behind me tells me I shouldn’t guzzle down chocolate because it’s not a healthy snack, she’d better step back before she gets belted with a king size Toblerone.
The next time some stranger tells me I look “so tired” I am going to give them a matching black eye when I deck them with my baby bag.
I think you get the picture.
Now outta my way I need a coffee!
Sep 12
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Actually, I left the pram at home for this one. But – only because it was an evening event and I actually wanted to come out at night on my own and without food on my top and knots in my hair. I attended the Online Anti-Ageing Event and Expo at Hugo’s in Kings Cross. Great night, great […]
Last week I was 1 week late.
Usually, well, before I had kids that is, I would panic.
I would start rummaging around for dusty pregnancy tests, feel a strange sense of instant nausea coming on and frantically scan the iPad calendar to check for eligible maternity leave work allowances. But this time, I was actually OK with it.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I will use any, and I mean ANY excuse to get out of work at the moment. But maybe, it’s because I am actually feeling clucky, for the first time in my life. There. I said it. Not Angelina Jolie-clucky. Like I need one to look like me and one to look like him and then one to match all my outfits and bags. Maybe, just like Jennifer Aniston-clucky. Like, there’s nothing too specific to speak of just right now, but maybe in the not too distant future I will put this item at the top of my “to do list”. Plus, this time round, I want to look like Natalie Portman in maternity gear and, I also wouldn’t mind winning a super-glamorous award for all my achievements right before I pop.
My mind was as crowded as the “Nickle Nackle Tree” on a good day, crammed to the brim with comical cartoon-like images of me …..fleeing from the office, forever….. Snuggling in a sunlit, cozy nursery with my glowing toddlers at my feet…… Cuddling with my magnificent newborn…..Inhaling what is hands down the best smell in the world – your own brand new baby’s soft, tiny little head…Staring in wonderment at the magnificent tiny little replica of you nuzzled into your chest and consternating over the wonders of creation.
Then I got my period. My dreams and hopes all dashed in the time it took to work up a killer migraine and crack open a bottle of wine. Two Nurophen Pluses and 250 grams of Cadbury’s chocolate later I was back to my old cynical self. But I couldn’t help wondering how far I’ve come in the last 20 months. Now, not only I had made great progress in reaching the point that:
I am so tired of everyone offering me their excellent advice.
From random passers-by on the streets to well wishing strangers in the shopping centre.
Seriously, as a mother of 2 who has done this all alone for 2 years solid, I am pretty a qualified baby nurse when it comes to baby-related issues and I am so not up for unqualified people proffering the ultimate baby solution to be when they perceive me to be in a time of need and crying out for helpful advice from the outside world.
My absolute worst is when men, especially men from other older generations, try to offer some useful titbits to “help me along”. For instance, some gems that I have been offered of late include:
- if you stop breastfeeding it will be much easier on you
- bottle fed babies are much happier, we were all bottle fed (this one is actually universal and used across all older generations across the board as the holy grail of information that a young mother of today should take on board! it’s also one of my mom’s favourites)
- give the baby a dummy, he really wants one (even after I’ve explained that my baby spits it out time after time and doesn’t want one)
- your baby’s hungry, feed him, that’s why he’s crying (everyone’s a baby whisperer in disguise, moonlighting as a night nurse during the day when you happen to be pushing an overtired baby round the block)
- toddlers don’t need a routine, they should fit in with your routine (pity my two active baby boys aren’t such massive fans of shoe shopping drinking coffee and reading Elizabethan novels on the beach for 5 hours straight in the sweltering sun….they should really fit into my routine!)
As mothers, we know our babies and their needs better than anyone.
So we should never cave under the pressure and feel forced to smile politely and take the obsolete advice.
As far as I am concerned, they can all take their advice and shove it!
Well said!!!!! Agree with you 100% If only every parent thought like this though :(
I absolutely agree. A man that does his fair share of the housework (includes looking after children
My son 5 would love the transformers pair
Hi Kerry Congratulations on winning the boys pack! Please contact us with your postal address and we
Congratulations to Kerry and Carolyn for winning the draw! Your gorgeous gift packs will be on their
