Tuesday, 11 August 2015

Judge Dread

I have admit that when I saw that picture last week of David, Brooklyn and Harper frolicking around in a car park, giggling, tickling and running around; that (amongst other warm thoughts on the family idyll) I did wonder how old Harper was and why she had a dummy/pacifier, surely she didn't need one. I am as guilty as the next and it made me realise that critique and judgement is an inherent human trait and is part of what makes this weird and wonderful world go round. 

I have been guilty in the past (and to a fair extent still today) of caring too much about what other people think and it's just not good for you. It is part of the reason for my 15 year writing hiatus. I dread judgement and yet I have now decided to document some of my quirky ponderings for public consumption. But you know what?.. I like writing, I like looking back at streams of my consciousness and challenging/analysing the thoughts and perceptions I have on day to day matters and the (albeit silly) things that happen in my life. It's my 'running replacement', my cathartic 'endorphin-fix'.

My plea is - challenge your own judgement. All is not always as it seems on the surface. My blog, the material I write about, perhaps at times makes me look shallow, conceited, smug and daft. Oh 'poor you' you didn't get a good nights sleep and then your perfectly healthy child threw a raisin at you, oh dear me. Oh and you couldn't find the blue plastic buggy book for your £500 buggy in your safe, dry, boring enclave of SW London, oh my heart breaks..... But you see we actually all have our own 'heavy sh*t' to deal with which we may not chose to air. It's sometimes easier to laugh at the seemingly minute than revel in the gritty tough stuff... Don't get me wrong, I am not afraid of writing about bigger issues but actually they tend to involve other people which is unfair.

I know I really am incredibly lucky - I digress.

Big Davey B, Goldenballs - stood up to the multitude of critics about the piece of plastic in his daughters mouth last week, 'you don't see what goes on behind the scenes' he went on to explain pretty much that this isn't a regular occasion (in fairness we haven't seen her much with one) and that he adores his kids and wouldn't ever do anything to jeopardise a brilliant upbringing. It's sad he had to 'explain' himself and I wish he'd been more sang froid but I hope in doing so it made some people think deeper into the situation before casting opinions. With the whole kid-thing, I feel quite strongly that everyone has their own way and method of raising their children and each child is very different - what is right for one person and their mite is not necessarily so for another. Almost all of us just adore these little beings beyond possible explanation and spend our entire life investing energy and love into ensuring that they grow up happy and secure and healthy, we don't always get it right but there is always a reason for an action and it has this vested, unremitting, unequivocal care and love behind it. Know that before you judge.

You see it's too bloody easy to read what you WANT from a situation to suit your own prejudices. Allowing what you see to challenge you is impressive and remarkably good for the soul.

Thursday, 6 August 2015

It's just not cricket

Well it seems an appropriate day to write this one (thank you Australia) and despite barely wielding a willow, I have an opinion.. Slam me down if you like.

You see after at least 10 years of intense watching in my own home, cogitation over the 7 Wisden Almanacks (thanks Jim) in our downstairs loo and 30 years of a fairly avid family following - I think cricket is a brilliant, genius sport but the phrase 'it's just not cricket' slightly bemuses me.

This phrase claims cricket to be the pinnacle of 'sportsmanship', Cambridge Dictionaries purports that if behaviour 'is not cricket, it is not honest or moral', but I am, at times, a little unsure. 

I love it for its twists, turns, unpredictability, endurance, banter, for the sledging..... And that for me is just it. Cricket is the only sport I know of where psychological taunts and jest forms a perfectly acceptable part of the strategy, skill and drama of the game. 'Mental disintegration' is often hilarious, a thing of wonder and utterly effective when cast down at opportune moments but it amazes me that with this, cricket is indeed the most moral and honest of sports. 

On the whole sledging is just plain, dry, slap-stick wit and banter but there are those that cross the line (of morality let alone the boundary)..

I dont know where I am going with this, I say 'long live the sledge' and long live the ICC monitoring that it doesn't over- step the mark (which those pesky Aussies have a habit of doing).

The eldest male of the household is out lashing (a little local cricket pun) for the 3rd night in a row whilst I sit at home writing a sh*t blog about a sport I have never really played nor understand and wait to be screamed at or vomited on by one of my offspring. THAT is just not cricket.