Pet Peeves Since Becoming a Parent
I admit that I don’t deal with sudden change well. For example, if someone cancels on us suddenly, my brain goes into overdrive. Therefore, becoming a parent probably wasn’t my smartest move as a sudden change in bowel movements can hinder a day completely. Nevertheless, I’m slowly learning to get on with things and take change in my stride.
However, over the past year or so I’ve come across my fair share of bug bears that I haven’t been able to control. Things that can make my day with T that little bit longer. That little bit harder.
Having a toddler is hard enough what with teething, tantrums, and exploding nappies, but the following list trumps even the smelliest of poonamis:
Parent and Child Bays (part one).
I’ll start off with my biggest bug bear. As a daughter of a mum who’s registered disabled, I already have a hatred of people who park irresponsibly, but at least those cars can receive a nice parking ticket.
Parent and child bays, however, are very much up to the discretion of the shop in question, which means that it’s never properly policed and therefore every other fucker feels they can park there for the sake of saving their own time and distance as apposed to the poor parent that’s now going to have to struggle getting a baby and buggy out of a tight spot.
I really don’t know what goes though people’s minds – they’re obviously not parents and therefore don’t understand what it’s like trying to get a toddler in and out of a car with limited room. It’s like fighting with soap.
Irresponsible Sickness Bugs.
When T started nursery he picked something up on a weekly basis. Starting with colds and ending with hand foot and mouth in the space of six to eight weeks was horrible. He was exhausted.
We were sick of it too – especially as whenever T was really sick we would keep him away from other children so others wouldn’t get sick.
Sure, it was great to get all the main illnesses and dieseases over and done with, and I know how hard it is to take time off, but when we seemed to be the only ones constantly taking the brunt of recovery by taking time off work – unlike others – it got tiresome. I just wish the sick ones were kept away before infecting anyone else.
Parent and Child Bays (part two).
Leading on from the previous, I also have a bug bear with parents parking in the bays when their “children” are clearly of an age where they don’t need the extra room or assistance to get out of the car.
Whether they’re grubby, the wrong height, or simply broken, I despise having to use public high chairs.
9 times out of 10 the cafe or restaurant have just bought a bunch of highchairs to call themselves ‘Family Friendly’ but have little knowledge of what it’s like to eat with a child. They rarely also find out whether the chairs even fit the tables!
Thankfully we now use or own one, but when on the odd occasion we’ve forgotten it or it’s not compatible with the tables, we can always guarantee it’ll probably better just to have T on our laps!
Parent and Child Bays (part three).
When the car has a child’s seat in there, BUT NO CHILD. Guys! We’re on the same team – what are you doing to us?! That car seat isn’t your free parking ticket. Park somewhere else, you could probably do with the extra time away from home.
So to summarise, Parent and child bays are there for a reason, not so you can save time between home and getting more stuff for your child-free life you lazy a-hole.
Changing Facilites combined with Disabled Toilets.
Picture the scene, you’re having a coffee with a napping baby in a well known coffee shop that rhymes with Bosta and suddenly their backside explodes beyond being able to do a quick stealth change in the pram.
Off you toddle to find the baby change facilities and find that they’re in a toilet. Not a changing table outside of toilet cubicles but next to an actual toilet in the disabled loo’s.
Sure, changing one backside in the place where others change theirs should be a fitting location, but it’s not. The amount of times I’ve entered a disabled loo with baby T to be greeted with a stench to challenge the messiest of nappies – I really feel for those that have no choice but to use those toilets. They often seem to be the literal dumping ground for those that are unable to find the toilet and/or bin (including the sanitary one!).
And don’t get me started on when I’ve seen a pathetic excuse for a chair placed in the room as well!
Parking on Pavements.
When you’ve just spent the whole morning getting ready to go out for the only piece of fresh air you’ll probably get all day, the last thing you want to see is a berk with a merc parked right across the pavement blocking the only access to the shops, leaving you to a) lift the buggy up and over the gap (trust me, I’ve done it) or b) walk in the road.
Unless you’re an emergency vehicle, park elsewhere and, heaven forbid, WALK.
Selfish Lift Users
Me + Buggy = No room for the both of us, pal.
I appreciate not all disabilities are visible; so this doesn’t go out to everyone, but I’m pretty sure you know who I mean. It’s those that have bought too much for their two hands. Those that can’t be bothered with escalators (even though the escalator themselves have been made to save you time with stairs!). People that are simply too lazy.
Now that T is walking we use the stairs or escalator, but on the odd occasion we have a buggy then we don’t want to be waiting behind someone who is simply too lazy.
Recently added only a few days ago when our new and rather inconsiderate neighbours decided to let off fireworks in their back garden – and we’re talking bangers loud enough to believe the fireworks were in our house – at New Years.
Due to the new and rather inconsiderate neighbours* someone has joined us for the fireworks (albeit a bit late). *Yes I know it’s New Years, but all our other neighbours did their fireworks at 9pm. Bah humbug. Happy New Year!
A photo posted by LesBeMums (@lesbemums) on
I’m not that much of a Scrooge, however when you live in a row of small terraced houses that have a high percentage of families, you tend to get the fireworks done between 9pm/10pm – not midnight when it’s likely children have just that minute gone to bed after being allowed to stay up.
Sharon may have released the rage after only getting T back to sleep at 3am! Happy bloody New Year.
I’m so glad I got those off my chest. What are your biggest parenting bug bears?