I’d like to think my children are well behaved. i am studying psychology…..so. one would assume i knew something about behaviour. but. often. it would seem, god enjoys making me eat my words. like the time we were visiting my in-laws…….
cj was 3 years old. i was quite proud of how well she played by herself. i felt we had done a wonderful job in teaching her to make her own fun and find her own amusement. and. when at your in-laws. there is a certain kind of pressure on the outsider to look competent in the area of parenting. especially. if ones in-laws happen to speak publicly on parenting.
so. we are eating lunch. enjoying family. sipping wine. laughing. cj has quietly gone off to play in the spare room with some toys. i am feeling particularly proud that she is not whinging. whining. pulling my arm to come and entertain her. until. there is a knock at the door. we all look at each other wondering who it could be. my father-in-law answers it. and.
it is the police.
they inform us. that. while we were basking in our parenting glory. freely supping and drinking without interruption. my cj was in the spare room dialing 000 and talking in baby speak to the police. no. not for a few minutes. but. up to an hour. hmmmm. i turn a certain shade of beet-root.
these parenting burps happen when we are least expecting them. when there are lots of people to witness them. people we would like to impress. people whom have been on the receiving end of our bragging. or. perhaps the neighbours.
not long after moving into our new street. cj (who has autism), took it upon herself to introduce our family to the neighbourhood. she proceeded to have a melt down. not just any melt down. but. a major 10/10 melt down. she sat beside her window yelling at the top of her voice…..HELP ME. SOME ONE HELP ME. CALL THE POLICE (apparently she had forgotten how to dial 000) – add lots of screaming and crying – HEEEEELP ME. SAVE ME. MUM IS THE EVIL STEP-MOTHER (and. apparently she is cinderella)…..HHHHEEEEEELLLLLPPPPP
now. being new to the street (and one by the name of whisper gully). we were expecting child services to turn up any minute. so. the remaining 5 of us ran outside to the front yard and began playing soccer together to prove we really weren’t murdering our child. instead. we were kicking a ball. fake laughing loudly (trying to drown out the screaming). having fun. really. quite normal……ok. so we are not normal……hello neighbourhood. we have arrived.
or there was the most recent time. just last week in fact. that i was at another doctors appointment. it was the only one i could get at short notice. and. i had to bring all 4 of my children with me. unfortunately it was at the end of a day. after a long car trip. they were hungry and tired. we waited. a long time. the doctor finally called us into his room. and. it began.
they opened all the cupboards. pulled all the toys out….all over the floor. snatched. grabbed. tore toys from each other. took books off the doctors shelf. whinged. whined. cried. yelled……it was so difficult to hear the doctor. i asked him to repeat himself. numerous times. it was so bad that he kept forgetting what he was doing . i was embarrassed. ashamed. humiliated. mortified. and. as my doctor handed me a referral to a specialist for boofa. he casually mentioned that maybe i leave my kids behind for that appointment. oh. ahhh. hmmm. right at that moment i was hoping the rapture would occur and i would disappear leaving my naughty kids behind.
honestly……..they’re not normally like this…….i say (a few times above the din). the doctor looks at me. i can see he wants to roll his eyes. he has heard that before….
at least some one is amused. i can hear god laughing.