Diary of a Freelance Working Mother: On Busybodies

working mother , parenting, writer, Catherine BalavageIt was Jean Paul Sartre who said that hell is other people, but he did not get it quite right. What he should have said was that hell is other people and their opinions. Now if they can keep those opinions to themselves then it is happiness all-round. I spend large parts of my day not pointing out to someone how much of a jerk they are. An underrated and valuable skill, but one that seems in short supply when you have a child. I am going to do my best to make sure this weeks column is not an all-out rant, but I am going to put out a plea: please stop telling me how to raise my child.

There is a woman in my local area who seems nice enough, yet since my son was about nine months has asked me almost every single time she has seen me why he is not in nursery. Answer: because he is TWO-YEARS OLD. I have tried to explain to her his age and my personal reasons, but each time I am met with a lecture. Because, god forbid, a woman might want to raise her own child, right? Ditto for the fact I also got a long lecture from her on how my son was too old to be in a pram. ‘You are spoiling him’ she said. Never mind the fact that I am pregnant and he had just turned two, no, make him walk along the busy road and have no rest. That is definitely the answer.

Things like this happen all of the time. Some people will just critique. Ask you if your child can do something (competitive parents, they are just the worst), criticise their clothes/nails/cleanliness/hair, or ask a barrage of questions while pulling faces and making comments. Another bugbear is the busybodies who interfere and always think they know best. It does not matter that their children grew up decades ago and they lived in a separate place than you, they will always know exactly what to do in regards to nurseries and schools, as well as where you should take your child. The passing of time means nothing. Everything they did with their child, you in turn must do, because they know best.

I find with busybodies there is a number of things to do. One is smile and nod. Always best with strangers. The second is smile and say you do not agree, or make a joke of it. The best is to ask them nicely and politely to not interfere. The latter is always better with family. They will not stop if you do not tell them their behaviour is unacceptable. They may not even change then, but, trust me, you will feel better. In the meantime keep your head up, work on your sense of humour as it is the only thing that will get you through, and always stand up for yourself.

Please share any similar experience below, or just add your own comments. I would love to know what you think.

 

Diary of a Freelance Working Mother: Park Life

A term time break. The summer holidays. This used to mean something when I was in school, but since my son is still in toddlerhood it does not hold the same excitement. I am not saying it has no effect on my life: the toddler groups close or become less frequent. When they are open they are busier than ever. It seems like everyone, apart from our family, has taken August off and is having a wonderful time sunning themselves in an exotic location. Cry. But what really changes during term breaks is that I end up going to the park with my little one. Parks that are busier than ever.

Usually my little one and I are too busy to go to the park. His social life is packed with different events and lessons. From Monkey Music to his toddler groups. But toddlers need to learn, get fresh air, and burn off their energy. Fun for toddlers, but not always for the mama. I usually love taking my son on the swing, and watching him do the assault course. There are a lot of parks near where we live in South-West London, and they all have something different to offer. But the real interesting thing is the people that each park attracts. Some are easy-going with friendly toddlers, others are full of aggressive children and mothers who do not care. General piece of advice to them: it is called parenting, not let-them-do-whatever-they-want-ing. I reckon I could write a book just on the politics of park life.

I recently had a lovely conversation with a little girl about Star Wars, had an aggressive 10-year-old call my two-year-old a ‘s**t f**k’ because he wanted to go on the bus, and strike up a conversation with a friendly Irish mother whose sons toy my son kept trying to steal. It went well until she told me that 5-year-olds are harder work than two-year-olds and then I just wanted to start drinking, everyday.

I have had many great conversations with other mothers and their children. Not every experience has been great however. Where there is all of life that will not happen. Recently it started to rain just as I took my son to the park, we waited under a tree until it passed. Another mother came to the fence near us and started saying how she had lost her phone to a friend, and had left it on the fence. She gave me the eye and I gave the eye back, irritated. She then went all over the park looking for her phone. A while later she came up to me and asked ‘if I had seen a phone’. I told her, no. The rain passed and I took my son into the park for some fun. I looked over at one point to see the mean mother, who had previously been bitching about me to all of her friends, On Her Phone. No apology. Difficult mothers cannot be entirely avoided. Neither can the competitive ones. One mother kept telling me my son was 3 ‘because he looks 3’ It is hard to argue with that kind of logic.

Negative moments aside I now get why I saw so many mother in parks before I become a mother. Some looked exhausted and spaced out, others were on their phones, and some looked happy as they watched their child play. The park allows parents to socialise while the children burn off energy. On a tough day, it takes some of those hours away when they feel endless. So I might see you at the park, but I will make sure it is a friendly one. Feel free to strike up a conversation.