We had a shocking incident occur to our neighbour last week. Like, the kind of shocking you just don’t think would, or could happen near you. Stuff you hear on the news and shake your head about. It has taken our relatively nice, family-friendly street and shaken it right up.
Our neighbour is doing well, she’s a very tough cookie. But it got me wondering about us as a society and why these kinds of things happen. Why are there some people in the world that think they can treat others in such a manner? Why do we get so angry/hateful/hurtful that we want to cause others pain?
The thing is, these people don’t think about others. They just don’t. They think about themselves. They think about their needs, or what they think they want. Others are simply de-humanised. And while our minds boggle at how some people can do what they do, they don’t see it.
I’ve had to do a ton of reading this year on brains. On the surface I think all the stuff about the brain is pretty cool- it’s this ugly looking thing that does so much. And we only use like 10% of it. Crazy! And different parts of the brain control different parts of us, our movements, our feelings, our learning. It’s like Atlantis- this whole unknown city.
I can almost hear you snoring at your computer screen upon reading my nerdiness. Soz.
One of the things I’ve had to do some reading up on is this whole thing about Growth Mindset. What the hell is that? Well, you know how they say IQ is fixed? This fancy little number that gets spat out at you when you do a series of ridiculous tasks that you’d never do in real life? Well, according to Carol Dweck, it’s not fixed. And the way we approach things, based on our mindset, will determine how well we actually do. We can literally grow our brains. Huh? I know.
It’s like the Rubix cube of life, isn’t it? Trying to figure out the puzzle that is being in a relationship with someone. Co-habitating. Dealing with their quirks. Bad breath. Leaving towels on the ground. Laughing at fart jokes. Actually, screw relationships- go and live on your own. Much less fuss……
Sorry, I digress. So, we’re all after it, aren’t we? That magic recipe- the keys to a good relationship. Every time some article pops up on it, tell me you don’t sneakily click through to see if you’re doing it right….. *cough* yeah me neither *cough*.
What do we do? What is the secret? Is there even a secret?
That’s the thing. There is no secret. And the sooner we accept that the better off we’ll be.
I’d love to say ‘oh yeah, I’ve got it all sorted’, it’s been a journey of self-discovery #blessed’. But erm. No. I’m not entirely comfortable in my own skin, but I think I’m getting there. I hope. Maybe? Fark.
Is it a global phenomena? Or just a couple of odd balls like me that get like that? I often wonder how other people feel about themselves. Is it easy to feel comfortable in your skin? I’m never sure.
Even when you deal with wellbeing and sorting people’s brains out for a living, it’s still hard stuff to take on board for yourself. I’m not selling myself very well here, am I?
As we are growing up, being comfortable in who you are is tough. You’re trying to find who you are. When you’re little, well you can run around nude, pick your nose and eat it (actually some adults still do this. PLEASE STOP. PLEASE STOP NOW) and then wear five layers of garish socks and not bat an eyelid. And no one else bats and eyelid either. Because. Kid life. But as you grow older, you start to notice others around you, and invariably start to compare yourself to others around you and that shit is tough. Really tough. Particularly when you’re not the cream of the crop.
We had a new chapter in our household last week. One that sends many a parent running for the hills. Or at least me. Right now. Sans wine. Man I miss that stuff.
“Hey Mummy and Daddy. Guess what? I’ve got a boyfriend”
Say wha?? It’s that toe-curling moment you freak out about as a parent. When those words are uttered from your cherubs mouth.
I may have nearly snorted my tea. My husband may have snapped his head around in shock a little too quickly that required a heat pack. He’s getting on, the poor sod. Just No. Not now. Please. NOT NOW. I NEED LEAD IN TIME. AND WINE.
“Who-is-this-boyfriend-when-did-this-happen-what??” were the jumble of words that flowed from us in unison.
“It’s a secret” she giggled.
“From who?” we questioned
I had to bite my lip to stifle a giggle. And also a sigh of relief. Boyfriends that don’t know they’re boyfriends are a-ok in my book for a 5 year old. Can we keep it like that until uhhhhh… let’s say, 30? That will be good for Mum and Dad. Thanks.
But like our scare with ‘the talk’, the time is soon going to come where we need to talk boyfriends (or girlfriends. We don’t discriminate around these parts!). And it’s better out in the open, right? Maybe? Kinda? Or we just don’t let it happen. EVAH.
On this Wellness Wednesday I’m taking a different tact. Rather than flood you with psych stuff, I’m taking pictures. Each month I play with a bunch of lovely bloggers and we all take a bunch of pictures, 10 to be exact, and then link through to each other. Hence the name 10 on 10. It’s a nice idea. And it forces me to go and do stuff on the weekend, because pictures of my backyard or my insane dog every month might get a bit tiresome to look at.
I am notoriously bad at taking time out and chilling. I know, shocking, right?! But basically, I feel like I need to be working, or cooking, or cleaning, or doing other ridic shit all.the.time. And if I stop and chill- then I’m lazy. I should probably go and talk to someone about that…..
But this weekend just gone we had a long weekend. And I actually stopped. And I chilled. And I hung out with my crew. My work took a backseat. As did the cooking and cleaning. Just don’t look at my floors and we’re cool, k? Feeling nauseous as all heck probably helped force me to stop, but let’s not talk about that part.
I realised that I need to stop more often. We need me to stop more often. I’ve talked about us Mamas putting ourselves first before, but yet I still keep pushing myself and not stopping. So how’s that for a wellness message? Just fucking stop for a minute. Please. Don’t get stressed about stuff that isn’t going to fall apart if you take some time out.
Now, I should probably quit chattering and start showing some pictures, huh?
This weekend, I was feeling saucy. As saucy as a beached whale pregnant lady can feel that is. We were chilled and having fun and I thought we should try something a bit different. So we took the girls out to putt putt. Yes, we are mildly insane.
Just when you thought I was done with monsters, eh? Here’s the last one in our series. A wily little fucker that can come in a few forms for little ones. We normally associate eating monsters with teenage girls, but you know the eating monster can hit even our younger cherubs.
In what ways can the eating monster screw with our kids? Well we have the more well-known eating issue of refusing to eat, in its extreme version we know it as anorexia. With the eating monster, refusal to eat can lie on a spectrum, from your garden variety pain-in-the-ass “No! I’m not eating that!” to a full control over what they put in their mouth. Anorexia can actually happen in children as young as 7 or 8. At that age it seems to have a bit to do with the sad monster or the worry monster (with obsessive compulsive features), and is hard to diagnose. The refusal eating monster also needs to be distinguished from the sensory eating monster. Some kids just will.not.eat certain things because of the way it feels to them, or the sensation of eating it. And some kids will not eat due to the worry monster leaving them with a fear of choking, or possible trauma around food.
So, looks like another bambino is joining our crew. We’re pretty rad, I can understand why this little one busted through and wanted in. But. THREE.
In a quest to prepare for life being ‘outnumbered’ (Eeek! Gasp!), I of course turned to Google. Like any rational person does. Because. Oracle of knowledge on EVERYTHING and all. And do you know what I found?
Fear. I found fear.
All I could read about was ‘how much three is a big change’ and ‘three will ruin your life’ and ‘three makes for the unhappiest parents’ and ‘three outnumber you’ and ‘you’ll be stressed’ ‘you’ll be miserable’, ‘you’ll struggle’ ‘you don’t have enough hands’. Well, I’m feeling pumped now. You?