On It

Can’t think of the last time I was on it. And in this instance, I mean ON IT LIKE A CAR BONNET. A phrase which conjures up colourful images of doing THINGS on car bonnets. But hang on a mother-picking minute – when was the last time I was ON a car bonnet? Have I EVER been on a car bonnet? And, are you actually ALLOWED on car bonnets? Like, recreationally? Or is it something attempted under the cover of darkness and incognito? In which case, that means there are A LOT of people currently bandying around the phrase ‘Yeah! I am on it like a car bonnet!’ who have NO INTENTION of getting on a car bonnet and doing the thing they are supposed to be doing, for fear of being caught and detained and possibly made to apologise to the owner of the car bonnet for violating such a personal place. How fucking disingenuous! Innit.

So here I am, openly admitting that, yeah, I am not on it. Not even near a car bonnet right now. There’s one over there *points out of the window* but it looks a bit damp. So I’m not getting on it. I wish I was on it. Not that car bonnet, not literally, just… oh YOU KNOW. Figuratively on it. Just for once I’d like to feel capable, organised, and IN CONTROL. How does that happen? Is there a button I press? Which bastard hid my button? Bastards.

On the surface, I have fuck all to complain about. There are worse things happening in the world and I am uber-grateful none of them are happening to me. But I’m an introspective and overthinking kind of gal so these are my demons, y’see. Haunting me. Waking me in the night and making me think the awful things about myself that, ordinarily, I can subdue. I convince myself that I’m a horrid, mean little person, undeserving of love and affection. I tell myself that Moo would be better off without me, as I am pretty sure I’m not doing this parenting stuff properly. I think, deep down, that all the evil, dark, gluey stuff that I want no one to know about me just surfaces and spills from my orifices and then everyone will see me for who I really am, or think I’m someone that I really really hope I’m not. And, turns out, I’m obsessed. Obsessed with MYSELF. Which is STUPID, as this post is all about me, so I’m kind of perpetuating the obsession, and yeah, I kind of hate myself for it. Sucks, huh?

We all have off days. Some days, we are so off, we end up standing over there, by ourselves, looking maudlin and picking the skin from our lips. Oh, just me? Shit. Anyway, what I’m saying is, I know this cycle of spurious self-flagellation will peter out eventually (hopefully, desperately) soon. I know that at some point, I will wake up and think ‘Yeah! I am ON IT like a MOTHERFUCKING CAR BONNET’ and do a little victory dance, in my pants, by the side of the bed, like people who are winning at life do. That’s worth waiting for, so I believe. And in the meantime, I’m trying not to beat myself up and vomit self-pity everywhere. Oh, what? I already did? Oops.

Having a blog gives a voice to these feelings. No one is obliged to reply or comment. I’m not fishing for reassurance. This is CATHARTIC.  It’s like, I feel BAD, I write it all down, feel a bit silly, then feel better and get on with my day. You may recognise yourself in my words, or you might be thinking, ‘Shut your whining, bitch, and blog about periods or muff or something’. Whatevs. There’s space here for thoughts and I just filled  it, innit. If you’re brave enough, you can be one of those people who give me a virtual slap and yell at me to pull myself together. Be brave, mind. Very brave.

So, on with my day. I’ve got a wild toddler to corral, a bodacious play to perform in, and a sweaty pair of fishnets to slip into.

On it.

How do you stay on it? Literally? No, ha ha, I mean figuratively. No, I do mean literally. Maybe.

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31 comments

  1. Julie

    If people in the car park can leave a dent in the side just by toughing your car with their door, I would expect a full scale cave in if anyone actually decided to climb on the bonnet.

  2. Spencer

    Right. *Rolls up sleeves* Ready for this? I guess I’m going to be the brave one.
    Shurrup for a second and listen to this. Hard.
    You’re a 34 year old single mum on benefits with an energetic two year old daughter and you’ve been rehearsing in a play 3 nights a week since December. That is tough. When was the last time you had a lie-in or a cup of tea in bed? A bit of peace and quiet? A good night’s sleep? No wonder you’re not feeling on it.
    But you are also much loved on Twitter with over 3000+ followers, you’ve published two books, one of which is getting great reviews and is hopefully earning you a bit of money (which isn’t bad bearing in mind people can read it for free). Both your blogs are nominated in the MADS Awards and you’ve just won an award for your acting. You also have people around you who think you are special and incredible and you are also a wonderful mum.
    If you’re not on it now then you’ll be unstoppable when you are, but I digress.
    I’m no psychologist but I suspect there’s some sort of dissonance in your life. Three nights a week you leave the house and perform with a young, vibrant and sexy cast in a bodacious play and you can forget for a while about the normality of life. People will tell you how great your performance is, tell you you look 21 and how wonderful you are and then…
    …when you get home, you have to peel the Hello Kitty stickers off the laminate, chuck away the half-eaten dinner and try not to boak when you clean out the bin juice. All the while balancing the needs of an energetic 2 year old and putting yourself in second place.
    I suspect the freedom you have when you perform is fun and a laugh and necessary. But when you’re doing this you’re not doing something that you were born to do, and something which you’re destined to be very successful at. Writing. And fun as it is to act and perform, and your award shows you’re good at it, it takes up a lot of time and energy. And, I’m sorry but it ain’t gonna make you any money. It also ain’t gonna allow you to channel some of your emotions and feelings in the way that comes most naturally to you. In a way you’ve shown here.
    Writing. That is a tough gig, but you have more talent and imagination in your little finger than J.K. Rowling and she’s richer than The Queen AND has her own Death Star. I suspect you’re not doing as much as you would like. Hence a feeling of not being on it.
    Writing is as normal to you as breathing is to others. And, I think, as necessary for you as breathing is to others. One night a week put down the Twitter and tell your followers ‘Right you lot – see you later for tonight I #amwriting.’ People will genuinely be excited and keen to know more. And, bearing in mind I’ve read your current WIP I know people WILL want to read more of your work because it is incredible.
    You’re not feeling on it? Remember what I said at the top. The MAD awards nomination for both your blogs, an award for your acting, an interview in the local press about your book and glowing reviews for your book which put the Northern Lights to shame. Also, a gorgeous daughter who is fun and intelligent, bright and beautiful. You may not feel it but that SOUNDS pretty on it to me.
    Compare it to this. I almost chucked myself off Tower Bridge, I’ve lost the ability to see my children when I wish, my mum is gravely ill, I tried to ask a friend for help and support and they pretty much turned their back on me and I’m homeless. Boy oh boy have I not felt on it. But I have two small things which mean the world to me and so I AM on it. For them. Christ I don’t feel like I am sometimes but each extra breath I breath shows I am.
    Okay, so your blog is a place for you to be as self-obsessed as you like and that’s fair enough. Next week your play finishes and, for a while, your life may seem a little flat. You’ll miss your cast members and you’ll miss the escape from the everyday. You may not feel on it then either but real life kicking in again might mean that you get on it. Plus, you’ll get some rest. I remember how tired you’ve been when you’ve performed in other plays and how ill you’ve got too. And tiredness and illyness will make you feel not on it. Tiredness is on your list of bastards isn’t it?
    You’re loved by many, including friends, your amazing family, your gorgeous daughter and, least importantly, me. You are not mean or unkind. You are many things, and I recently wrote down some of them and told you what they are, but you are not mean and unkind.
    You may not feel it or think it, but you sound pretty on it to me.
    I hope blogging this helps sweetcheeks. Now, where can we find a car park? Or an alleyway?

  3. findmychild

    Don’t feed da demons as they are fuck’in hungry and will eat you up, we are all being screwed, just not in that nice kinda bedtime or car bonnet way !!! just screwed but we need to share love’n good stuff or we become them and them is rotten

  4. Bibsey Mama (@BibseyMama)

    Erm, it’s not just you picking the skin off your lips today. THAT I can tell you. As for the rest of it… it’s good that you come back to the old blog to vent, because you know that we are all still here, and some of us are probably feeling rubbish too. Muffs, menstruation and moaning we’ll take everything you got.

    Oh, and since you asked, I stay ‘on it’ by drinking shed loads of Cava and watching medical dramas via my VPN (Visible Panty Nickers).

  5. chooksandroots

    If you care enough to question how good you are at the old parentlng lark, you’re probably doing a grand job… keep it up. And I’d stay off car bonnets unless they were in a nice warm garage. It’s blinking freeeezing out there!

  6. mummylawyer

    As the mother of a 5 (nearly 6) year old and 3 year old I have learnt the following things:

    1. Feeling on it even 20% of the time is something most parents aspire to rather than achieve.

    2. Some phases are great. Some make you want to crawl into a dark room, stick a duvet over your head and not emerge for several moon phases. That’s children’s phases and phases of life.

    3. Talking about it is miles better than not talking about it.

    Not sure if that helps at all. I think having things to look forward to helps as something to pull you through the bad days. Even if it’s just tea and cake in a nice place.

    It does get easier. When they start pre-school you get *whispers* a bit of time to yourself. It works magic and definitely helps!

  7. Sonya Cisco

    Car bonnets are over rated. They are too cold in winter, and burn your extraordinary arse in summer. Better off on a sofa really. But it doesn’t rhyme with anything upbeat. Loafer on a Sofa. Hmmm. Too miserable. ‘Wheeeee on a Settee’ is a bit uriney. Maybe ‘Hey! Look at me on Upholstery’ would work….
    I will get me coat….
    (Plus big hugs xxx)

  8. The Fool

    Hasn’t Rupert Murdoch just decided to stop showing people on car bonnets? Easy to talk yourself into these spots when it’s just use and a partly talking toddler around, but hey Moo looks like a pretty cool and intelligent little girl so you must be doing something right.

  9. Leoarna

    I was gonna write something with a vein of empathy running through, and then I saw that all the other commenters were just a teansy-weansy bit taking the mick, so I thought I wouldn’t bother. Seriously hun; you sound pretty sane, normal and self-aware to me. Don’t go changin’… Unless you want to. And, sister, you ain’t half right about the pupose of your blog; it let’s you get it out so you can get back on it. As. It. Were.

    • motherventing

      LOL yeah I can rely on my commenters to bring me back down to earth with a bump ;) Thanks for saying I’m normal and sane, if that’s the impression I give then I’m a farking good actress!!

      • Leoarna

        We all act, to one degree to another; and we are all of us, dancing along the spectrum line beween normaolity and insanity, every day of our lives. Thanks for giving me good reason to smile, and nod my head in recognition…

  10. Middle-aged Matron

    I suspect you’d be amazed to know how many of us feel the same way, to a greater or lesser degree. Especially about the parenting this. I had similar sensations last week, but just fed my kids a horseburger, had a salutory gossip about school gate mums who are far more dysfunctional than me and decided to stop taking myself too seriously. PS Avoid Skoda bonnets. They dent.

    • motherventing

      Yeah I am already assuming this is a momentary slump in confidence, normal service will resume imminently. I hope. Cheers for the practical advice about the Skodas. How do you know that?

  11. Manaiasmama1 (@Manaiasmama1)

    It might just be me but at the start of your post i thought you were talking about SEX!

    Thinking of a car bonnet makes me think of either the Dukes of Hazzard or Starsky and Hutch.

    I can’t really help as i am TOTALLY STRUGGLING AND PRETENDING I’M NOT.

    Other than that I can hear the universe saying THIS TOO WILL PASS so you will be fine in a few days X

    • motherventing

      You are OBSESSED with sex. You minx. Look, if you’re totally struggling then email or DM me and we can struggle together. I know things seem grim now but you’re right – this will pass – and we’ll BOTH be fine. Courage, dearheart X

  12. BlueGlassBoy (@BlueGlassBoy)

    How to stay on it like a car bonnet:
    You got naught to fret about, you lovely human bean. You’re a lovely, warm and generous lady, and more than doing your bit to keep the rest of us sane and smiling. Moo has a wonderful Mummy too (and just think of all the interesting things you’re saving up for her to read about here, when she’s old enough to reach a keyboard tee hee).

    *sings* You’re a star, you’re a star, fishnet tights on the bonnet of a car, And I know that you’ll go far, ‘Cos you’re a star… *stops singing, dies of shame at adapting themesong to New Faces*

    • motherventing

      I am specifically doing this so that when Moo is old enough she will be utterly THRILLED to read all about my trials and tribulations and muff and stuff. And by thrilled, I mean mortified. Obvs. Thanks dude, that song is GREAT and I will demand a live acoustic version later. Mwah.

  13. BlueGlassBoy (@BlueGlassBoy)

    How to stay on a car bonnet:
    1) Don’t wash or polish bonnet. Build up of lime tree droppings, bird crap, rust and other airborn detrirus will give you the necessary friction.
    2) Of course, once you’re up there covered in sap, crap, rust and mould, anything more fun sort of flies out the window. There are only a few number of things you CAN do on a car bonnet (going by the rather energetic calendar proudly hung in my local garage). None of them look comfortable.

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