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Wednesday, 23 November 2011

Attention deficit

Not the disorder - and certainly not hyperactivity. Just a deficit of attention from me to many of the things I ought to be doing! 

I have failed at nablopomo (though I managed better than I ever did nanowrimo) but I don't feel bad - I rather enjoyed the first week/ten days - then it felt a bit of a chore, if I'm honest, and I was scrabbling around trying to think of things to write - then I started looking up memes to join just for the sake of making a post - and then I though "actually, that's ridiculous" and decided I'd just hold off posting for a few days until I wanted to blog something!

I've ignored blogging, I've ignored evening working on various writing projects (though I did update the magazine a couple of times, which was nice!) I've neglected ironing (hahahaha, notice how I'm pretending that's just this week and not ALL THE DAYS) I've neglected cooking (again, not really a change to the norm...shh...) and I've neglected being nice to my neighbour-that-I-dislike. 

I haven't, however, neglected the boys or Daddytwo and we've had a lovely few days! 

This Sunday I got up early with the boys and left Daddytwo in bed (it was his turn for the lie in - he gets Sunday and I get, um, every other day actually) and got them breakfasted and fed and we walked slowly (VERY slowly, Jellybean was investigating things and practising his backwards walking and running back the way we came to make me chase him - gosh what a dull game) and we went to The Palmhouse which might just be our favourite place ever - and it was empty! 

We were the first customers through the door and it was quite odd seeing it so tidy - once it's full of little people it looks quite a lot like every parent's living room! I plonked down on the sofa by the back door so that I could watch Jellybean whether he was inside with the toys or outside in the sandpit, sat Midget Gem with some toys to bash and prepared to enjoy my mocha and attempt to read a gossip rag.

A short while (and two headlines read) later two women came in with their children. I smiled at them - but rather than smile back they turned up their noses and very loudly and pointedly told their children that they wouldn't be able to play their usual game - which was the whole reason they came in the first place because their usual table was taken so they would just have to make do with other games. 

The kids didn't seem at all bothered (I'll call them Tarquin, Giles and Montgomery - these aren't their actual names but it gives the right atmosphere I feel) and ran around playing games and being altogether brilliant at imaginary play - honestly, they were excellent, being knights and heroes and dragons and building castles, they were a joy to watch.

At one point Montgomery, the youngest, headed over to the sofa beside mine (at the other side of the table I was at) and climbed on it. His Mum - let's call her Tara-Palmhouse-Dragonface, immediately floated over (I swear her feet didn't move, she hovered on a cloud of superiority) and said, again loudly, "No Montgomery, you can't play here - the table is taken so you can't play that game you so love which is the reason that we came."

I did try to say that not only was I not in the least distressed by her children playing near me, or on the sofa/table/my knee if absolutely necessary but that I'd be happy to move to another seat so they could sit there. 

She ignored me, and hovered back to her friend (let's call her Cruella de Stepford) and they Rah Rah'd at each other about their many many pounds worth of car/house/make up/staff. 

The boys - mine and the other three - had a smashing time. Jellybean tried to play with the other boys but they were all a bit bigger, so not very interested, but when they ran away and left him mid game he didn't seem to notice because I stepped in and took over where they'd left off - so everyone was happy. 

I was a little upset for him that they so clearly didn't want to play with someone they viewed as being too little - but he didn't notice.

I'm far less forgiving, however, of parents who have that same attitude and can ignore someone, or act rudely because they think they're too big to play nicely. 

So the next time they floated by my table talking pointedly about it being their usual spot and how inconvenient it was to have to sit somewhere else, rather than trying again to offer to move I kicked off my shoes, put my feet up and stretched out, and ordered another mocha.

Magical!


(images thanks to The Palmhouse facebook page)