Shopping Trolleys

I need to rant.

And given that this is my blog and I can write whatever I like, I'm going to do it here.

What is the deal with all the lazy people who won't put their trolley in the trolley bay???

I mean, how hard is it to walk up to 10 metres to put it away?

And then, once you're there, why wouldn't you push it into the other trolleys so that they don't run away or get all tangled up together?

Am I so strange that I think this is how it should be?

I've heard that some people say, "why should I do it?  I don't get paid for that!".

To which I say, "you lazy bum!".

Just because a store pays someone to come and collect them doesn't give you license to be lazy and leave your trolley in the middle of the car park, where other cars can run into it (if, for example, it's left between two parked cars and you don't see it), or where it can run away and crash into parked cars.

And what ever happened to being a part of the world community???  You don't get paid to put your rubbish in the bin, or keep your spit to yourself, or smile at others, or use your manners, or help someone out.

Bah!

Stop being so immature and pathetic and give 5 seconds of your time and a tiny bit of effort, and put your trolley in the bay!

Will we survive?

You might remember that a few weeks ago the Little Big Fella managed to cut his finger with a steak knife whilst trying to open a packet of tortillas by himself.  He learned that scissors are a better option.

Earlier this week the Little Big Fella was trying to do a handstand off the trampoline onto the concrete.  Obviously the fact that I'm telling you about it means that he was unsuccessful.  He learned that the grass is the best place to practice handstands.

Last night my darling son (again) couldn't wait for me to use the facilities while he was dying of hunger.  He got a scone (Americans call them biscuits) from the freezer, put it on a plastic plate and put it in the microwave.  First thing I knew about any of this was when I exited the loo to be told something about smoke, although I didn't decipher that part immediately.

"All right, show me what you've done", said I.

I was guided to the kitchen, to discover smoke pouring out of the microwave.

The next 5 minutes were spent throwing the black scone and melted plate over the balcony onto the grass and trying to get smoke out of the house, whilst waving a placemat at the smoke detector to shut it up.

The Little Big Fella has since learned which one button on the microwave he is allowed to push (our start button will set the time to 30 seconds).

But all of this makes me wonder if any of us will survive to his adulthood.  No doubt there will be broken bones in the future, especially given the new motorbike skills he's developing.  I'm wondering if there'll be electrocutions, loss of digits or limbs, all manner of (hopefully minor) fire incidents...

Then there's the reality that I am now a heart-in-mouth parent.  Watching my little boy get a few wobbles on that bike was very stressful!

But, the flipside of it all is that my "little" Big Fella is not going to be little for long.  He's learning how to do things for himself (albeit the hard way).  As well as food-related independence, we've been teaching him some letters of the alphabet while he's on holidays from kindy.  And he's soaking it up like a sponge!

So I guess now is a significant learning time for the Little Big Fella, and it would probably be smart for us to make the most of that.  Because soon he'll know it all ;-)

Horror in the backyard

Yesterday morning I received a text from a neighbour who has chickens.  Apparently their chicken gate wasn't closed properly the night before and a dog had gotten in and killed all 6 of them.

I was so glad I'd shut our chooks away that night, because sometimes we leave them to sleep wherever they like.  Probably a bit stupid being in the country with the possibility of foxes and feral cats or whatever.

Well, later that day I was in the garden pulling weeds (seriously, that is not my favourite job!) and I noticed a visiting dog in our back neighbours' yard.  I assumed that they knew about it and were trying to get this beautiful Husky to mate with their Labrador (or maybe she's a golden retriever - I'm not sure of the difference).

Our little male, Frankie, was not happy to have this Husky hanging around.  I mean, he thinks that yard is his as well, so to have a strange male dog hanging about (and I'm pretty sure he thinks Chloe is his girlfriend) was making him cranky.  The two of them were having a pee contest all over the fence too!  Ew!

After quite a while (at least half an hour, maybe even an hour) the Husky suddenly jumped the fence and attacked our silky chook.  Thankfully the Big Fella was around and chased the Husky away before it got our other chooks as well, but I watched my poor Silky stumble for about 30 seconds before collapsing and dying.

I know it's just a chicken, but honestly, watching that was horrific.  Silky, although she'd been quite shy of us, had become part of our family and it was awful to see her go like that.

The Little Big Fella had heard the commotion and come outside to see what was going on.  He saw Silky and knew that something wasn't quite right.  I explained to him that the dog had attacked her and that she was dead - her life was all gone.

You know, he amazes me, that child.  He accepted it.  Just like that.  It wasn't that he didn't care or understand either, he just accepted it.

The dog was collected by its owner a little later.  Apparently it gets out often and has attacked chooks before.  There's a bit I could say about responsible pet ownership but we'll leave that one alone for today.  Suffice for now to say that he offered to replace the chickens (ours and our neighbours').

The whole incident makes me very wary about letting our chooks roam free in our yard though.  But I don't want them to be locked up in their area all the time either (as nice as it is).  I guess we just have to gamble and hope that they'll be safe!

10 steps back?

I feel like I felt in the latter part of last year, before I began my happiness project, and it feels like crap.  I'm down, I'm completely impatient with my son, I'm frustrated by everything and I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel, even though I know it's probably there.


And no, I don't think it's just today, or hormones, or even the rain that just won't go away.


So, back to the old drawing board.  What can I do to get out of this funk?


Stop sighing, start smiling, fake it until I make it.  But I don't have the energy to do that.


Get enough sleep, take some time to myself.


Remember what I'm grateful for (that's normally a good one!).


Hmmm, I'm grateful for a cheap place to live and the Big Fella's wages so we can get ourselves into a better financial position.


I'm grateful for the weight I'm losing and that the Big Fella is noticing it (he said yesterday that the roll on my back seems to be gone - isn't he a charmer ;-)  )


I'm grateful that my son is pretty easy to entertain most of the time and that he wants to spend time with his parents.


I'm grateful for friends, old and new, who look out for me and try their darndest to pick me up and help me out.


I'm grateful for an old fashioned country town where everyone looks out for each other.


I'm grateful for heating and undercover washing lines.


I'm grateful for a husband who loves me and does everything he can to provide for me in every way, including making time to give me a break when I'm losing the plot.  And I love how he has a go at so many things and normally does a really good job of it.  Honey, you're amazing and I love you and the spark and interest you add to life!


I'm grateful for the fact I can read and write and have access to the internet :-D


I'm grateful for my awesome family.  Even though we don't get to see each other as much as we might like, and we're all pretty bad at phone calls, there is a deep well of love between each of us (getting teary) and I know I will always be able to count on them.  I love you guys!!!


I'm grateful for the healthcare system we have.  Even though it's not perfect, we're generally well looked after and money doesn't stop you getting care.


Yeah, I have a lot to be grateful for.

Selfishness and hurt

Sometimes I just need to be selfish.

Because if I don't insist on having some time just for me I wonder if I might hurt someone.  Probably not physically (I'm not especially strong like that), but I could do some pretty serious emotional damage if I tried.

Before we moved here the Little Big Fella went to family day care with Super Carer two days a week.  I got to do what I needed to do and sometimes even what I wanted to do.

But now I really am I full-time mum.

It's been really wet here over the last week.  And despite putting on our gumboots and going out whenever there was a break in the rain, my nerves had pretty much reached their end by yesterday.  I needed some time by myself to do whatever I wanted to do without being interrupted every 5 seconds by "Mum, what can I have to eat?".

Thankfully the Big Fella didn't start work until 3 this afternoon.  Even though I'd told him, I don't think he realised how much I needed a time out.

While trying to do my 15 minutes of exercise this morning the Little Big Fella decided he wanted to watch TV (I was exercising in the lounge room).  Because of the kind of exercise I was doing (intervals of 60 seconds of hard-as-you-can-go followed by 60 seconds of marching on the spot) I could hardly talk.  By the time I got to my 60 seconds of marching I was angry.

And I lost it.

I yelled at him to get out of the room.  It was MY turn!

He cried and I got angrier and told him to go to Daddy.  He cried more.

I don't feel bad for taking time to exercise, or for not letting him watch TV, but I feel bad now (I didn't at the time) because I was passive-aggressive with him and that's no good for anyone.

A little later Daddy took the Little Big Fella for a bike ride to the park for a while.  I got some time to myself.  I got to epilate and have a long, hot shower.  And this evening I've had a chance to read through and clean out my email inbox.

But my need for selfish time shouldn't hurt my family.

So obviously I need to learn to recognise better when I'm getting angst-y, communicate it better and make the time before I lose it at those I love.  They don't deserve that.  They deserve a me who looks after myself so that I can treat them with the respect and humanity they deserve.