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Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Beware the crazy woman at the park

It's me.  I'm the crazy woman at the park, yelling.

At least, I was earlier this week.  On any given day it's not necessarily likely to be me - but that's because I'm inherently lazy and would rather nudge the twins out the back to the sandpit at home, than pack them up and take them to a public park that has sufficient fencing around the playground, and equipment appropriate to toddlers.

Also, at home I still have my laptop.  At the park, I have to actually vigilantly monitor my kids.  My attention span is rather poorly and I usually find myself tweeting from my mobile phone within minutes, while my kids could well be exposing themselves, eating playground debris that many a dirty little foot has trampled on, or perched atop the highest, pointiest, most dangerous item in the place. I'm guessing *ahem*. 

The other day, I felt the need to go that extra mile on the parenting front.  This was because I failed so spectacularly with Miss5 in the morning.  I figured I could make up for it with the twins once they woke up.  Even out the balance of parenting fails to half-decent parenting.

The logic is mind boggling, no?

It all started when I took Miss5 to school in the morning, with her Show and Tell news that wasn't required until the following day, and without her library book that was required that day.  The book she hadn't even read anyway, so I nicely covered my ass by advising we would be keeping the same book this week, because she hadn't read it much (or, you know, AT ALL).

Yes, I dobbed my own child in to save face.  I'm all about public image.  Actually, it's about minimising the negative image my poorly parenting skills often project.

It was only while prodding Miss5 into the classroom (before she could expose my library book lies) that I noticed she was wearing the exact same uniform as the day before.  I knew this because it had tomato sauce on one arm, and paint on the other.  Extremely large stains, impossible to miss.  

Also, impossible to remove.  At least, not by yours truly sucking like mad on the tomato sauce patch on her elbow in the corner of the classroom.  Which did not go unnoticed.

This left me paranoid that all other parents, the teacher, the teacher's aid, the other Early Childhood teachers from surrounding classrooms (who would, no doubt, discuss my crap parenting over morning tea), and generally every single person within the school grounds would be judging my poorly parenting for yet another reason - I send my kid to school in dirty, stained clothes.  Because I'm absolutely positive they have all taken note of her attire both days and come to the shocking realisation that she's worn the same set of clothes.

Again, the logic is mind boggling, right?

So to make up for such crap parenting, I took the twins to the park.

All went well until I desperately needed the loo, which meant we had to leave.  Only, the twins didn't want to leave, and completely ignored my every attempt to round them up and tackle them to the ground so I could put them in the car.

After a solid  7 or 8  20 minutes of begging, pleading, threatening, and chasing, I was fed up and on the verge of wetting myself.

So I yelled, at the top of my lungs (which are quite impressive...just ask anyone living within a 2 block radius) :

"If you get in the car I'll give you a lolly!"

Every. Single. Parent. stopped, turned and looked at me.  Some with jaws gaping, others with incredulous death stares.  Either way, the only two people who did not take note were the twins.

In hindsight, it was probably the single most inappropriate thing to scream across a playground full of children.  I see this now.  At the time, I had to hastily collect the twins, one under each arm, wriggling, struggling, and protesting, and beat a hasty and apologetic retreat to the car.

I'm quite sure a number of the parents took down my number plate and car details.

It's highly possible many of them have reported a frizzy haired crazy woman of around  25  30ish who appeared to be on edge and/or intoxicated, yelling and trying to snatch children at the park.

I'm quite bummed that I now have to find a new park that meets my criteria.  Just in case

Just for the record - I wasn't intoxicated.

Digital Parents Blog Carnival


  1. Oh my god, I have soo been there. It is a bit of a shame you were not pissed though,  as you could have just dropped your dacks and whizzed under a tree,  while giving the other mums the finger. Great post xx

  2. As Mr Fussy always reminds me, be sure I make good on my threats. So I now pay a bit more attention to what I'm threatening. But for this situation I would threaten to leave the Darlings there. I'd head for the car, shut the door and by about the time I turned the engine over I bet they would respond.

  3. LMFAO. This is the first time I've read your blog and I nearly wet myself laughing. Awesome post.

  4. Ahh yes, I should've just gone the whole hog and had myself written off as a loony.  Then I would've had the park all to myself if I ever went back.  Genius Mrs Woog!

  5. So true. I am full of empty threats, and the kids are totally on to me now.  However, I have used the "okay well I'm leaving then, bye!" threat before - and they have all said "bye Mummy" and let me leave.  I've sat in the car / at the shop exit - and they've completely ignored me and kept doing whatever they found too important to leave!

  6. Me too. Totally reinforced my anti-park stance.

  7. I feel like I have stumbled upon another contender for Mother of the Year! Fantastic to meet you. I know exactly what it is like to wrestle twins into the car while busting for the loo. I wish I didn't! Visiting from the DP Blog Carnival. Thanks for joining in! x

  8. Love it. Particularly that image of where your children, ahem, might be found. Great post. 

  9. I think all mothers have had those moments. I know I am one of them...

  10. Bahaha ahh gold. I do so love reading your posts. You give me the ability to laugh at my very own moments much like these. Love it.

  11. Thank you so much - I try, sometimes, when I'm not totally exhausted from the sleep deprivation!  Speaking of wrangling twins - one day I'll be brave enough to tell you about the time Mstr2 wriggled out of my grip in the pouring rain, near the corner of a busy intersection, and ran like mad...eek

  12. Thank you - and while you may think I'm joking - there is a particularly tall father I met on the weekend who can vouch for their playground positioning of choice.

  13. Thank you so much - that is the aim.  Because if I didn't laugh and make light of it all, I would probably cry.  Or drink.  Or cry and drink.  Either way, I'd likely be located hiding in my pantry.

  14. We've all been there! A mum once asked me if I was my daughter's aupair because my kid fell off a swing and I just kept on chatting to my pal!

  15. Haha, it's all part of the mother job description isn't it - leave your dignity at the door!

  16. I literally snorted aloud. Everytime my son is screaming and tantruming about not want to come with mummy/daddy, we feel like people must think we're kidnapping him!

  17. I seriously wondered that about my own kids - because, how can you tell?  Can't wait for them to start with the "you're not my Mummy!  I hate you!" in the middle of a shopping centre - at which point I'm totally permitted to walk over to the coffee shop and sit down for a flat white while they have their meltdown, right?

  18. Come to my oark - you'll be in good company.

    My mad logic is often to make the beds up with clean sheets, after screaming a monologue nag at them in the car on the way to school. Because, of course, clean sheets fix everything, even my poor kids busted eardrums.

    Thank you for linking up to the Weekend Rewind!


  19. This was laugh out loud funny! Thank you. Visiting from the weekend rewind.

    I love the playground photo- reminded me of my grandmother's story about getting a call from a neighbor across the street asking if she knew my uncle was hanging onto the gutter outside his bedroom window...

  20. Huh! My reply would've been "no, I've just done this more than once...I know they bounce"!

  21. I will be found sitting under a shady tree, "WATER" bottle in hand....hydrating...

    My logic post-rant/nag is ice cream after dinner.  Yes, I know, bad parenting using junk food to quash my guilt - but they will be happy, roley poley kids who don't ever remember Mummy losing her shit!

  22. Thank you!  My own grandmother told me a story of how I jumped off the top of a huge slide (back in the day when they were all set on bitumen, no safety rails or little slides for smaller kids).  Her response was to make me stay awake all day (missing my regular 4yr old's afternoon nap) - just in case I had concussion.  Never mind broken bones, brain bleeds etc?!

  23. Haha, I do the same thing. On the rare occasion I take my kids to the park, the only way to get them back in the car is a nice loud "Maybe we should get some icecream?"


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