Sunday Night Tantrums.

I love a good wedding.

I love babies, especially newborns.

I also enjoy reading the Sunday papers. {But I don’t love it, that would be going too far}.

So what do these three facts have in common? Allow me to elaborate.

For many years I enjoyed reading the Wedding and Babies pages at the back of one particular Sunday newspaper. There would always be a story, or even just a detail, that gave me the warm and fuzzies. I would read out the baby names to my Husband, and we would each give them a yay or a nay, as to whether or not it was a name we would give our own offspring. {Btw, we NEVER agree. If it was up to him our firstborn would be called Percy}.

Then about five or so years ago the wedding page started getting…well…boring. It suddenly seemed that every dress was by the same designer, who I have met socially, and seems to use the same few designs for every dress that bears her name. The venues seemed limited to a half dozen or so of the same places that were in every story, and it was all just so REPETITIVE. Same old same old same old. Where are the crazy weddings? The small and simple ones? Oh, that’s right, the people having the small, simple, or outside-the-square weddings generally don’t seem interested in being featured as “Wedding Of The Week”. So eventually, after a three second scan of the page, I started flicking right on by.

And after reading the Babies page today I feel that I will now be flicking past that too. No longer is it enough to have a cool name and a cute photo. The modern baby, some only a few months old, has to have interests. Believe it or not, today’s batch of cuties had interests that included shopping, watching cricket on TV, bushwalking, camping, and my favourite: “being in the great outdoors” {was that straight from the horses mouth?}. I was relieved to notice that one baby seemed to have only one interest, which was staring. A perfectly normal thing for a baby to do, though I am a little concerned that it was even listed as an interest at all. Staring is just what babies do, they blink so rarely that it has long been a game of my Husband and myself to observe how infrequently a baby blinks. Suffice it to say: they stare. A lot.

There was also the baby who was “off to New Zealand” later this year. I wonder, was this something she decided for herself? Then there was a baby who already, at seven months, has a great sense of humour. Have the parents not noticed how easy it is to make a baby laugh? A stupid face, fart noises, it’s really not that hard. I wonder how her sense of humour fares when she is cranky, hungry, or tired.

Almost all of the babies are described as being social, happy, and friendly. I dare say this has something to do with the fact that ALL of the babies are under nine months of age, when separation anxiety and a fear of strangers rears its ugly head. This is the time when a previously sociable, goes-to-everyone baby will cling for dear life to Mum, and any face not seen at least once a week will incite hysteria and terror. {And major awkwardness for the poor person on the receiving end, including one door to door religious type who I answered the door to once with a baby in my arm, who then gave a decibel-busting example of a shrieking banshee. The baby that is. Not the religious type.}

But then this is also the Sunday paper that featured a column last week in which the writer shared her opinion on how ugly tattoos are, how they are a guaranteed source of eventual regret, and how there is generally no such thing as a nicely done tattoo. Ever. This week the letters page featured quite a few responses to that column, one from a person who has tattoos which were well done and has no regrets. The rest of the letters were in support of the original column. One was supposedly from an eighty year old woman who commented that when discipline is removed from our culture, “society would fall apart”. First of all, what does that have to do with tattoos? And second of all: she’s eighty. I would be shocked if she actually liked tattoos. And what people seem to forget is that it’s as simple as this: if you don’t like tattoos, don’t get one. I once heard of a sign in a tattoo parlour which read: “the difference between people with tattoos and people without tattoos is that people with tattoos don’t judge those without tattoos”. It might seem a generalisation, but from what I’ve seen, it’s pretty accurate.

Yes, I have tattoos.

I want more of them.

I never got a tattoo to gain anyone’s approval or pleasure. My own mother hates them with a passion, and that doesn’t bother me in the slightest.

So since I don’t read the comics, finance news, or sports pages {*shudders*}, and am now skipping weddings and babies, it would seem that the inserts are all I have left. One of which today included the old “French women are sublimely perfect creatures who smoke, eat cheese and pate, drink lots of wine, never get fat, and approve of facelifts” feature.

And here I was wishing I was Italian.

Til next time,

Ana.

  1. Are you saying that at 6 months old you didn’t have an array of interests to share with your local paper? The shock! The horror! Imagine the shame of your poor parents whom must have been convinced you would grow to be just another dull starer. Luckily this blog does a great job of proving how interesting you are! Thanks for the great read, and feel free to check out my blog about life in Japan (*^^*)

    Reply

    1. Thank you very much. I was a shamefully boring baby I’m afraid! And I will definitely check out your blog, cheers.

      Reply

  2. […] of humour who like bushwalking? Like I said, it pretty much wrote itself, and you can find it HERE, on my main […]

    Reply

  3. You have an amazing talent to intrigue a reader into reading anything. I mean this in the best possible way. You are just awesome.

    I didnt expect to read a blog on babies and wedding! That iswhy this reaction.

    I especially loved the part where you described your baby’s shreik when she saw the relegious type person at your doorstep.

    Long live and prosper!

    BP

    Reply

    1. Thank you.

      Reply

  4. Percy?? oh no no no
    Staring is one of my hobbies too, I like that baby.
    Our newspaper is not-so-good anymore and if I ever read it it’s usually the Sunday paper which has gotten thinner and thinner. I’ve noticed some of my favorite magazines are filling up with more and more ads and fashion spreads than the interesting articles I use to love…basically their filling them with fluff now and I hate.

    Reply

    1. Fluff and very slanted biased stories. Even my son who is studying journalism is becoming disillusioned and he hasn’t even started working yet.

      Reply

      1. That’s really depressing =( Maybe your son will be some of the people working to change that.

        Reply

        1. If he doesn’t change majors first.

          Reply

          1. Oh it’s that bad? yikes!
            I had an English teacher in high school that was brand new at 40 years old. She had previously been a television anchor with a degree in journalism. She said that the “news” was so bad and so dishonest she couldn’t do it anymore and started over.

            Reply

            1. Yeah, sad but true.

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