You know how you say flippantly ‘ha the neighbours will think I’m strange’. Well since becoming a parent I seem to be saying that A LOT. My neighbours are a ridiculously lovely bunch and terribly polite but a few little, ahem, observations from them have brought me to the conclusion that my flippant utterances might have some basis in reality.
So I’ve been considering what possible reasons there could be for this and I think I’ve nailed it:
My son is a big fan of builders – the one we had downstairs for a few weeks, Bob, the people up the scaffolding down the road, anyone in a hard hat really. And so we do lots of buildering. I say we do lots of buildering, what I mean is I do lots of buildering.
My son is more into project management at the moment and so I receive instructions as to which door or window to fix and the tools I should use. All of which I undertake with great enthusiasm, resplendent in a too small high-vis jacket and a yellow plastic hard hat. It’s so nice to be buildering at the window – good to know I’ll definitely be seen (and safe) when a neighbour passes with a cheery hello and a double take.
2. Happyland Leap of Faith
Poor old Happyland people spend their lives in a box coming out just to sit in poorly designed cars and on chairs that are too small for them. We have a lovely view from our lounge and it’s only fair to share, so I lined them up one day on the railings of our first floor balcony.
It’s just that not only did I forget about them for the entire day, they were quite high and it sort of looked a little bit like a desperate escape attempt.
3. Sing it Loud
We sing all day long. I imagine most parents of young children spend a good proportion of their day singing. Newborn evenings had my husband and I belting out ‘Don’t Cry for Me Argentina!’ until the poor child stopped crying in bewilderment.
Nothing inherently strange in that, I hear you say. Well quite, until the two year old requests we do his nursery rhymes in the style of Howard Keel. YES, my husband can do a cracking Howard Keel impression…it’s Howard Keel as Adam from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers actually. And it is LOUD.
4. Let the Rain In
I don’t mind the rain and think you can have a huge amount of fun in it, and so we do. Again not too odd. But sometimes (if I haven’t got dressed yet) I don’t want to go outside and so we let the rain in. Balcony doors wide open, towels on the floor (heaviness and angle of rain determines how many we need), and a (thirty) two year old squealing with delight.
5. Indoor soft play allergy
On the theme of weather I’m really keen we get our daily dose of fresh air, even if that freshness might be a little on the chill side.
Picture December…the communal Christmas Tree was in full twinkly glory on the shared front lawn and the neighbours were tucked up warm in their houses. My 16 month old son and I were…in our cardboard boat box navigating round the tree. It was less Stevenson’s Treasure Island and more Shackleton in the Antarctic but it was a hilarious afternoon and cardboard is very insulating.
6. Hulahoop loopy
I became a little, um, obsessed with the idea that I couldn’t hulahoop this summer. I took my son to a festival and he adored the fabulous hulahooping lady and so I decided that I MUST learn.
I bought myself a hulahoop and I bought my son a mini one to match. We took to the communal garden and I tried…I tried and tried and tried. I tried to the point where I started to get a bit hysterical and light headed. Kindly neighbours weeks later commented on my dedication. Thank you.
Other, more practical, neighbours sent their 9 year old daughters round. They taught me in about ten minutes with much seriousness and I CAN NOW HULAHOOP! Yes I did just shout that.
7. Birthday Baubles
We have a Christmas Tree outside the front door. This in itself was commented on. But wait, why waste the decorating potential of a Christmas Tree for eleven months when it could have its moment in the sun for Birthdays too? A Christmas Tree is not just for Christmas.
Who knows what the exact thing is that makes my neighbours think we’re, let’s say, ‘quirky’. There’s a common theme, however, and that is a small blond boy who definitely brings out the child in me.
So what do you do (with or without children) that makes you utter the words: ‘the neighbours will think I’m strange’…go on, do share!
I’ve decided to go with the blogging flow and enter into the BiBs and MAD blog awards. It’s a lovely opportunity for people to show pride in their own blogs and admiration for others they like. You can read my arguments for and against nominating my blog here.