Today writer Catherine Deveny has tried something entirely refreshing for her (!) and written a column that's entire purpose is to invoke controversy and vitriol, thus increasing her exposure across social and other media. As much as Deveny perpetually shits me to tears and I'm loathe to give her the intended reaction, I feel I simply must respond.
You see, she has written an (actually often amusing) article bemoaning the trend towards taking children to cafes. I'm not going to argue with her on one point - kids in cafes are absolute nightmares. I wrote about it myself pre-child and I still agree. But given the number of mothers with small kids I know, all of whom sometimes frequent cafes, I can hardly describe such mums as "wishing they were cool" or "cultured" - in fact I think she's misreading the looks of terror on their faces from the moment they walk in the door as "smug". Perhaps a course in body language is required.
I mean, don't get me wrong. I absolutely LOVE taking my two year old into a cafe. I love wrangling her stiff and screaming body into a high chair while she kicks my pregnant stomach with the strength of someone possessed. It's so FUN to have my coffee while she throws fruit at me and screams "muffin". I get so MUCH out of conversations with friends that are constantly interrupted by my child banging her head against the table. It's just a relaxing and enjoyable experience all round! Particularly if I'm there with a girlfriend who also has a toddler - double the laughs! Good times!
By now you're sitting there saying, "Okay, we get it, she hates cafes with her kids - so why does she take them?"
The short answer is, I don't know. I'm bored shitless at home? I like being reminded that there is civilisation outside of parks and children's' play centres? I'm completely bonkers?
But having a think about it I guess I can pinpoint two central reasons.
Firstly, I have many friends of an entirely different breed to myself - childless friends. These strange beings are completely oblivious to the often horrific reality of toddlers, let alone toddlers in a confined adult-centred space, and can't understand why they need to be subjected to my cheap tea and bad cooking when they could be frequenting their favourite local haunt. Often, they suggest meeting up in a cafe. How cute, I imagine they think. I'll catch up with my friend and her totally cute baby and then post a pic on Instagram! Fun!
Little do they know this will turn out to delay their own childbearing by a minimum of three years. I suppose I agree to such outings because it's really a one off - as soon as they've done it once, it's Bushell's and undercooked brownies at my place for all future catch ups.
Secondly, I think sometimes I genuinely forget. I mean, I was a normal person for twenty plus years before I had a child. I could go wherever I wanted whenever I wanted (wow, I'm getting depressed now) and trips to the cafe were almost a daily occurrence. Sometimes I wander in for a coffee before I realise what I'm doing, and before I know it I'm covered in strawberry milkshake and ordering a side of Valium. I can't count the times I've said "never again" but then I find myself there two weeks later reliving the horror.
I've only been at this for two years and maybe I'm just getting used to the fact that I'm now a mother, which means I come complete with an utterly delightful little monster and am apparently no longer welcome in cafes or other civilised public locations. But hey, this motherhood gig is hard, so I urge the Deveny's of the world to put some headphones in and thank GOD you're reading the paper alone while we're dealing with the feral kids. Our kids probably could be somewhere more appropriate than a cafe, but let us work that out for ourselves.
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