School holidays.
Day 1: I’ve been hiding under my doona watching shit on the
internet.
I’ve willingly been sucked into the YouTube wormhole – it always
starts with a bit of Dr Phil, then somehow I move on to watching the worst
auditions for X Australian got voice talent idol factor, that’s good for at
least 15 minutes until I get so sick of the judges expressions, I just want to
see what their happy faces look like so I move on to the BEST auditions of X
Australian got voice talent idol factor.
That’s when the tears start and I realise I had a bank of
those babies just waiting to roll on out. I’ve been stock piling grief behind
my eyes in little sack,s to pour out the minute I see an awkward geek who’s
been teased all their lives surprisingly and shockingly belt out a Whitney song
note for note, solid.
Floodgates open, assume the sobbing position.
There’s nothing like a good cry to make you realise that you’re
feeling sad, eyes are the pressure cooker of the soul. Tear ducts the release
valve.
Once you start you just can’t stop, amiright? I watch every
unexpectedly successful, pitch perfect Adele adaption, seeking out the UK and
US versions for good measure and it appears I’m in it for the long haul so I’ll
take the Italian and Ukrainian versions too thanks. Can’t understand what the
fuck they’re saying but pain speaks every language, the anguished pitying looks
on the judge’s faces are intercontinental! Sob!
Cue: “Muuuuuum I’m hungry……..”
“DON’T come in here – you don’t want to see me like this –
get yourself a box of biscuits from the cupboard……’
After a cleansing amount of inspirational auditions I glance around the room to make sure I’m definitely
all alone, so I can indulge in my secret
YouTube guilty pleasure…… returned
servicemen surprising their loved ones by returning home unexpectedly….. I could cry for hours.
I get that it’s kind of weird and sure, I’m not really keen
on wars anywhere, but the absolute shock, joy and love that these people feel
when they see their clean cut and often uniformed family member is just
contagious, it’s so real!
Seeing grown men cry whilst they hold their sobbing nine
year old daughter tightly gets me every.single.time.
It’s amazing how many brothers surprise their younger
sisters. The fact that these young men
have thought out a surprise for their sister is just as overwhelmingly beautiful
to me as how the sister is ALWAYS super excited and happy to see them! They always cry with joy and they ALWAYS run
and embrace, not in a ‘Cersei and Jaime’ kind of way, but in a ‘really love and
care for each other’ way. It really
makes my heart chambers ache.
As I sit here typing this I’m watching my two play outside,
they’re making agreements not to squirt each other with the hose, but as soon
as one has their back turned the other grabs the hose and squirts the shit out
of them. Then there’s a lot of screaming,
name calling and crying. They agree
again that they don’t want to do it, 20 seconds later the other one cops it.
I really want to think that it’s these moments, these benign
and forgettable events that forge an unbreakable bond and relationship between
them. I really hope they grow up knowing
they are forever connected to each other, kindred souls in a way, always there
for each other when needed. I’d like to
think that my daughter, who is currently calling her brother a ‘butt face’,
will seek him out for help in the future.
I’d like to think that my son, who is currently feigning injury to get
some sympathy, will know that she’s got his back when they’re older.
I would like to think that if one of them joined the armed
services and served overseas for many months, that when they returned the other
would jump gladly and excitedly into their arms crying about how much they love
and missed them.
IF that happened, I would consider this parenting caper a
success.
Ps: Ronan Keating…..ermagherd
he’s a god! There’s also an oddly attractive pirate looking judge on the Italian
Voice, can’t tell if he’s an arsehat or not, can’t understand a bloody word he’s saying.
