So I haven’t blogged in ages and don’t really have a good reason why other than the fact that we recently moved interstate, had 2 Christmases and then went overseas for 2 weeks. With a 10 month old. Because we like to live on the edge. Some tips on travelling overseas with a baby? Don’t, if you can possibly help it. The end.
In all seriousness, we had a wonderful time away. We got to watch our beautiful friends tie the knot in the most love filled, emotional ceremony I’ve ever been to. We got to hang out with old friends and make some new ones before setting off on a driving tour of New Zealand’s north island which is damn fine place to visit. Better still without the tiny human in tow, I’d venture. However, that is another post for another day. My renewed energy into the blogosphere came to me today when I locked myself and Thomas out of our house. Because adventure.
It’s happened to all of us at some time or another. If you’re lucky, you were baby-less. And it wasn’t 30 degrees with limited shade and no water or snacks for you or your child. You’d remember the code for the lock box at the side of your house that holds the spare key. You’d be able to reach your husband who has his own set of keys, as well as some impressive skills at breaking and entering (that you may need to bring up with him at some point.) Defence Housing would be able to tell you the numbers for the lock box and/or send round a locksmith. You wouldn’t have to wait for up to 3 hours for a locksmith to attend your residence even though it’s the middle of summer and you have an infant with you. You’d be able to open the side gates and attempt breaking in through the back of the house yourself, because the gates definitely wouldn’t be padlocked for some inexplicable reason. You wouldn’t then have to formulate a plan on how to jump the fence whilst holding a baby versus jumping it and leaving him at the front of the house where he will almost certainly cry/crawl onto the road/be kidnapped.
You definitely wouldn’t weigh up the pros and cons of dropping Tom over the back fence and wonder if the height of the fall will give him a head injury or just break his legs.
You wouldn’t have some helpful people tell you to “just go for a drive” while you wait for your husband to get home and then through gritted teeth have to explain that your house keys are with your car keys and thus you are without transportation. You wouldn’t swear blindly at your husband like it’s all his fault when he finally answers his phone and then hang up on him like a petulant child when he explains that the lock box has no key in it. And you most certainly wouldn’t fall into a heap on the front porch with your baby and cry together in frustration. Definitely not.
First world problems for sure, but fucking annoying all the same. I had this hopeless, helpless, damsel in distress vibe going on and I did not like it one bit. So naturally, I cried about it and waited for Mick to come rescue me. Which he did rather gallantly and selflessly, even though he was doing some very important man-business at work… (It’s been 6 years and I still don’t really know what he does day-to-day in that place.)
While I was waiting I had a rather lot of time to think. And what came to me was this: No matter how much I try to micro-manage and plan and be responsible for everything and everyone in my little family, sometimes things are just going to be shit. I got locked out of the house today because I forgot to pick up my keys before shutting the door, plain and simple. It was 100% my fault. Which is a rather disappointing conclusion to come to when you’re a ridiculous overachiever and think everything in life is your responsibility. And instead of treating this problem as the little blip in my day that it should have been, I overreacted and felt like this ultimate failure of a mother who can’t even remember to pick up her keys and potentially put her son at risk by not having water/snacks/sunscreen etc… Anyone else hear the stupid in that statement? For fuck’s sake.
So I wrote this post to put it in perspective and to give myself a break. Because I’m human. A glorious human who sometimes makes mistakes and needs rescuing every once in a while by a knight in camouflage.