the antidote

The other day I was walking Miss Pepper down the hill into her school. I think we were just on time with not a moment to spare. We were both wearing overalls, we were holding hands and she was skipping along beside me, pulling me forward, chattering away about something or other. Along the way we greeted other people, asked them questions and answered theirs.

At one point when we passed two teachers from her school, one of them remarked on how easy I make parenting look. We took a few more steps until I realised what she'd said and turned back to thank her. She elaborated a bit, I told her briefly about my experience with the woman at the festival the week before, and we all agreed that I would use her kind words to cancel out the other's nasty ones. Like an antidote. Or anti-venom. 

Then I skipped Miss Pepper out into the school garden to play, and went about my day.

Hours later when I met my farmer boy in the kitchen for coffee we filled each other in on the stories of our mornings. He'd driven the big girls to school and I'd bumped into a friend in the fruit shop. As we were finishing off and about to leave I remembered the kind words the teacher had spoken to me. 

A week before when a complete stranger criticised my parenting I took it straight to heart. I agonised, I cried, I couldn't get it out of my head, I felt terrible and I couldn't let it go. Yet when someone I know and trust, someone who sees so many parents with children, someone who is in my day to day life, compliments me on the same things, I feel happy and then promptly forget about it.

When you look at it with a bit of distance, there's something about that story that isn't quite right.

I should have nodded politely at that woman at the festival, been upset for a few minutes and then dismissed her as a cuckoo and gotten on with my day. And then a week later I should have felt thrilled with the teacher's comments. I should have taken them into my heart, replayed them over and over, told them to everyone I met and used them to feel good about myself and my parenting.

Why am I so quick to believe a nasty stranger and so quick to dismiss a kind friend?

I keep asking myself if deep down in my heart I felt like the stranger saw my truth and was exposing me for the terrible person I am, but I know that's definitely not true. Not at all. In retrospect I think her tirade was possibly more about her and less about me anyway.

Bren thinks it might be in the delivery. If the stranger had made a rude comment and then left me to walk away and the teacher had shouted compliments at me for two whole minutes, then my response might have been different. Makes sense.

I don't know the answer but I am happy to sit with it for a while. Happy to try harder to take compliments deep into my heart and deal with criticism appropriately. Happy to report that two weeks after the verbal abuse at the festival I feel over it and that although I'll probably tell the story when it comes up for weeks to come, it doesn't hurt me anymore. 

This is the only photo I took on my big camera on our four day trip to Sydney for my birthday. Miss Jazzy in a vintage shop in Newtown trying on Converse runners.

We also went to markets, watched Beautiful the Carol King musical, ate out, drank lots of coffee, visited my cousin and his sweet family, visited the Opera House and the Sydney Museum of Contemporary Art, watched a movie, caught buses and trains and taxis, looked at the Bondi - Sculptures by the Sea, listened to all the noises of the people in the apartments above and beside us, squirmed with embarrassment and horror at some late night loud activity above, tried to laugh (and debrief) about it the next morning, thought longingly of the acres of space surrounding our house back home, op shopped, wool shopped, book shopped, and came home feeling happy and celebrated.

We were only away for four days but gosh it was wonderful to wake up on Wednesday morning and see our place with fresh eyes. All the colour and growth and beauty. All the mowing and weeding that needs to be done too.

Over the past week these two toes are all that I've crafted. The other night I knitted a few rows of a pattern into the next bit but then I undid them because they didn't feel right. I'm not sure where to go from here. Part of me wants to decide quickly and get on with the knitting part and the security of knowing that I've got a project on the go and another part of me is enjoying the design insecurity. 

I always feel happiest when I have a good book and a good knitting pattern to turn to at the end of the day, it's strange to think that I've been working such long hours lately that I haven't had much time for either.

And this is the birthday present I bought myself in Sydney last week. It's going to become a sweater before too long. It was hard for me to move away from the blue and grey section, but Miss Jazzy really loved this brown and the photo that goes with the pattern I plan to knit is this brown, so I chose it and so far, I'm pleased I did. Watch this space for updates.

Oh and farmer Bren chose that black on the right for a new beanie. Black is also something new for him, I'm interested to see how we go with it.

And now I'd really like to thank you guys - for your kindness, for your birthday wishes, for your sweetness, and for your sunshine. You guys fill my life with so much wonderful and I'm ever so grateful.

I hope your weekend is great, I hope the people you meet up with are kind and I hope that someone surprises you with a compliment and that you take it into your heart and use it to make yourself feel strong and awesome. 

Love Love

Kate

xx