Buggy Rage, Glitter Boobs and Pooh in the Bath: The Joys of Parenting 101

I get it, I do, not everyone wants to go forth and multiply and many that do, find out its not quite what they expected.  Parenthood brings a whole new level of responsibility to the table and that’s kind of a drag sometimes, but personally speaking I love, almost, every minute of it.  However, there are some unexpected and kind of random issues that I have been musing on this week…..see if you can identify with any of these:

Buggy Rage

Is there wierd phenomenon gripping the land and baby perambulators are deemed the persona non grata of the pavements/shopping centres/any public space? Or perhaps its a special kind of blindness that people without kids have and therefore you are forced to play a game of chicken to see who will give way and swerve aside first?  Buggy rage, it could happen to you. We live in a fairly small country town at the moment, so I usually observe this when we head to the big smoke and so I guess it could just be a case of more people = more aggro but actually even in quaint seaside resort towns, it appears common courtesy in fact common sense seems to be suspiciously absent.

The most recent examples rendered me speechless and actually amused in a way that anyone could be so ignorant and ridiculous.  Yes I know that buggys are sometimes big and get in the way of your busy day and at times contain loudly crying children, but its not exactly a picnic for parents either you know……hauling them up and down stairs, onto buses, through crowds.  Cue the middle-aged guy in the new Stratford Westfield (lets call him Wally), when faced with our buggy and another upon the elevator doors opening, does he do the sensible thing and wait for us to exit the lift first? Hell no, Wally decides that the best course of action would be to push into the lift and physically climb over both our buggys to secure himself a comfy spot at the back of the lift. Seriously? I have no idea what his deal was but I wish I’d had a video camera handy. Wierdo.

Something similar happened when I was out shopping in a  large town closer to home this week where I was right at the glass double doors of a shop, literally the buggy wheel was pressing against the door and two boisterous women took no notice and actually barged inwards forcing me back and then sidestepped the buggy.  I think I may be ranting a bit by now but I mean it kind of beggars belief!  It makes me want to run rampant through the streets and plow into anyone not showing signs of at least attempting give way.  Fact: its much easier for a person on foot to sidestep than a buggy to divert course onto the road into oncoming traffic! Nuff said.

Glitter Boobs

Contrary to what this may sound like, I am not trying out for a job at Spearmint Rhino or Peter Stringfellows anytime soon although I’m sure the young ladies in those esteemed establishments do a good line in sparkly bits.  If you’ve never heard the story about the mum that goes to the gynaecologist only to discover she’d had an intimate wash with a glitter covered facecloth belonging to her young daughter, you can read it here. Luckily I haven’t suffered that fate yet but Ioan was a little startled last week when I waltzed into the house last week with a glitter-covered chest. Unbeknownest to me I’d managed to collect it on my person during a particularly enthusiastic glue and glitter session at the local playgroup and had walked around town, gone to the supermarket and a few other stops bedecked in gold glitter.  I did wonder why the checkout guy was being so attentive.

Pooh! In the Bath!

I don’t know why I was so shocked by this one quite frankly, kids pooh everywhere when they are babies and its not as if little people can help it, especially when its nice and warm and relaxing in the water, but there isn’t a chapter on it in any of the childrearing books I’ve come across.  To be fair, its only happened a few times and we’ve tried to be very calm and nonchalant about it as Squigglet got a bit freaked out by her own by-products when she saw it floating menacingly towards her beloved bath toys.  I just get in a quandry trying to figure out how to get the least amount of pooh on said child and toys whilst trying to extract them all at once.

Whoever said parenting wasn’t exciting!?

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Posted on May 25, 2012, in General and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. Ah, the joys of parenting!!!! My toddler (now 12) once took me by the hand and led me to our very prissy, elderly neighbours’ garden flower bed, where he proudly showed me the poo that he had done, nestling amongst the geraniums!!!! Quick exit.

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