Let’s face it people – it’s been a pretty (excuse my language) sh***y time of late. There is, of course, the unavoidable subject of my motherland’s shocking decision to exit the EU. But, as if that wasn’t enough to contend with, I faced my first (and boy do I hope last) challenge of changing a poop-filled nappy on an upright child – I leave it to you fine people to decide which deserves more attention.
On the topic of Brexit you can only imagine how I feel. As a recent ex-pat living in Barcelona, married to a Portuguese and general fan of all things international and inclusive I found this news beyond all belief and just plain wrong. My immediate reaction, similar to others, was when do I wake up from this crazy nightmare? As strongly as I feel on the subject – hence my own prolific social media postings – I will stay away from the topic here. That is not to say I think the conversation should not continue, quite the contrary. I believe the continual dialogue will help bring about change and, like many, I live in daily hope that the decision will not actually come to fruition.
So, on to the other recent event that also left a rather nasty smell in the air – the act of having to change a nappy on an upright child thanks to the place he decided to go about his business providing no baby changing facility! Now for those of you who are reading this and thinking that doesn’t sound like such a big deal, think again. As a mother you become quite adept at dealing with strange and unusual tasks, but I have to say, this particular incident is not one I hope to become skilled at as it requires a whole new level of precision and mastery I believe few possess. Without wanting to go into detail (no-one needs to hear about that) picture trying to keep a super active boy from running around whilst you attempt to clean his booty in a fully upright position after his hearty breakfast decides to make a friendly return. Shockingly as much as I plead with Lucas to ‘help mamma’ he wasn’t having any of it and of course found the whole thing hilarious and thought it was an imaginative new game mama came up with – believe me there were no winners here. Ah, yet another parallel with the oh so painful Brexit. Hard to avoid the subject after all.
Incredibly, this was not the worst part of my week. They say bad things come in threes so let’s hope this is it. As the temperature continues to rise in Barna (getting down with the local lingo you see) I find myself lured to the pool on a daily if not hourly basis, and decided to take Lucas for an evening swim in an attempt to kill time and tire him out for the all-important good night’s sleep (this is of course an urban myth and anyone who says their kid sleeps well I choose not to believe you). Once again I grappled with my boy’s energy levels and tried to keep him entertained in the water without being able to match the usual aqua antics of father and son. Clearly I failed, as Lucas decided to create his own entertainment and pull down mama’s top in the pool for all to see. NICE. Of course this was ‘peak time’ at the pool with many of my neighbours and friends enjoying an evening swim and on this particular day a whole lot more. As with the week’s earlier events, what causes discomfort for mama seems to equate with sheer hilarity for Lucas and I get the feeling this won’t be the last time he chooses to publicly embarrass the person who gave him life – a small fact I will be sure to remind him of just as soon as he is capable of comprehending the sheer scale of it. However, I am wise to his tricks and swimming will now become an exclusive Papa and son activity. That’ll teach him I am sure. The lesson here, think before you act. Bregret is all around people, all around…