Keeping the kids alive

I kneeled on the floor of the supermarket this morning. Despite the wet, muddy surface. And despite the glances of the disapproving OAPs. And despite the hurried impatient office types trying to rush me through the checkout.

I kneeled on the floor of the supermarket, to stuff my groceries under the pram – beneath the weight of my sleeping toddler.

Y’see, I’m in the important business of keeping the kids alive.

Thats what I wanted to shout at the folks behind me.

Yes, I’m slow, and yes I’m getting dirty, down here on the wet floor. But they need this shit – the milk, and ham, and cheese and crisps, and cucumber, and garlic stuffed roasted peppers (…well…they were for me actually). But anyway, they need this stuff. And I’m getting it for them.

Its often a very undignified process – this ‘keeping the kids alive’ business. I’m usually hungry, very tired, slightly dirty, carrying at least one child, de-escalating a potential tantrum from the other, dressed in ill-fitting very unflattering out-dated clothes, and most likely scrabbling around on my hands and knees somewhere trying to retrieve something.

But I AM keeping the kids alive.

I put such a lot of pressure on myself (we all do don’t we?) to provide my children with enough attention, and activity, and love, and the right kind of stimulation (not too much TV, plenty of stories, some outdoor time, maybe a little painting, or cooking, or crafting blah blah blah……).

But sometimes, after a busy night of teething, I’m so tired, all I can do is make sure they’re safe and happy. Feed them, wash them, dress them, cuddle them. Anything else might be a little ambitious.

Today is one of those days.

So hey, all those people that saw me looking like a tramp – Unkempt, tired, fumbling in my purse, struggling with the pram, soaked from the rain, please don’t judge me. I’m keeping the kids alive. And sometimes it looks like this.

Letting the kids talk to strangers

I took my boys to the beach yesterday with our big gangly dog. Nothing strange there. We do this every day.

Anyway, I digress. I took my boys to the beach yesterday, and whilst we were there a man arrived with a bucket, wearing waders and proceeded to wander out into the shallows.

It was a very low tide. Lower than I’ve seen it for a long time, and there were small pools exposed, and rocks covered in green slime, and shells and the spaghetti-like cases left by sand worms. And the man stopped by one of these pools, kneeled on the wet sand and began dipping his hands into the water and under the rocks.

It, obviously, caught our attention, and I found myself thinking that here was another great opportunity to let my eldest son ( for the youngest can’t speak yet…) practice talking with a stranger.

Talking with a stranger!!!!! Yes, you read that correctly.

See, the thing is, I know we’re all supposed to be frightened of talking to strangers. And we’re supposed to teach our kids that stranger = danger. But I just get can’t to grips with that.

We live in the north east of England. Up here the people are (for the best part) notoriously friendly.  We chat on the bus, in the street, on the doorstep. We don’t think anything of striking up conversation with folks we might stand next to in the supermarket aisle, or people smiling at us at the bus stop. And smiling…..that’s great shit isn’t it? Costs nothing and makes your day.

I’ve taught my eldest to smile at folks. I’ve also taught him to say hello if someone sits next to him. To say ‘excuse me’ to the shop assistant if he wants something. He’s only 4 (nearly 5) but I’ve encouraged him to approach the lady behind the counter, to speak to the bus driver, to say ‘good morning’ to fellow dog walkers.

And I encouraged him to approach the man in the waders, and ask him what he was doing. I knew what he was doing. But I saw this as another chance for my son to practice politely approaching someone. And of course, to learn something new.

The man responded with kindness. Maybe it’s because we live in the north. But he took the time to answer my son. They both smiled. My son came skipping back to me, buoyant with the new information he had. Excited that he had learnt something new. And confident that he could approach someone he didn’t know.

I had watched from a distance. I knew he was ‘safe’. And I was glowing with pride to overhear his beautiful little voice start “excuse me….”.

How can we teach our kids independence, if we are to control who they speak to? And how they speak to them?

There are so many skills I am trying to teach my kids. Surely, one of the most important is how we integrate into our society, how we make friends, how we talk to others.

I’m not prepared to teach my children to be afraid of strangers.

The serious business of ‘business’

I keep thinking I’m missing something…..because business is so very very serious right? Wrong. Or at least, wrong in my case.

I’m sure it doesn’t need to be. I actually really enjoy it. And mess it up. And make it right again. And fumble around trying to understand it.

I don’t ‘power dress’. Or pay for PR. Or wear sky scraper heels (is that what business women do…..? I don’t know). I feel very intimidated by those types of ladies. And by men in suits for that matter.

And I don’t lie awake thinking about it. Or worrying about how to make more money (ha!) or find more customers, or beat the competition, or ‘put myself out there’.

I don’t have a marketing plan. Or a business plan for that matter. I’m not sure I know what SEO stands for (……joking….I do really….kinda).

I just like it. And have a bit of fun. And enjoy making stuff. And meeting people. A friend and I were chatting (…..’a meeting’…..) yesterday and we decided that marketing is just about ‘relationships’. Meeting folk, showing them your stuff, being nice.

Just relax everyone will you?

I don’t need a master class on recognising my USPs, or ‘finding a niche’, or ‘dressing for success’, or some other crap. I just make stuff. You might like it. Take a look 🙂