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Scary television

I like scary tv. I mean, crap-in-your-pants-a-little scary. And sometimes, in between hiding my head under the covers, there are little pearls in amongst the scariness. Watching Bates Motel recently, I came across a sad scene where Norman Bates (of Psycho fame) is told my his teacher, Miss Watson, that he "gets it." Remembering that Norman Bates is completely off his rocker, one would hope I stopped listening there, but no. I did not.

What does Norman "get?"

Well, that we aren't meant to be happy in this life.

And that was the exact moment I realised that Miss Watson was psycho too.  

Luckily, shortly after this scene, Norman kills her. Well, unluckily for her.

My husband constantly asks, "Why do you watch this shit?" He claims it freaks him out, makes him have bad dreams and that old cliche, 'real life is bad enough.' But looking at Norman and Miss Bates, I wondered why someone would write something so pathetically sad and intrinsically against the human grain. Surely no one believes that we aren't meant to be happy in this life?

Sadly, I'm sure there are. In fact, if I am truly honest about it, I am one of those people from time to time. I guess every woman and mother is. When, you might ask? Well I will tell you.

At three am, when you are up for the umteenth time during the night to placate a crying child who has no temperature, no visible ailment, no hunger or no thirst. All the child wants is you and to be held. And try as you may to remember this-too-shall-pass, you feel as though this is your lot in life and well, it aint a happy one. I can't be the only mother in the history of mommy-dom who fantasises about giving her child a sleeping pill at that time. Or worse, flinging them out of the window just to get some sleep. Last week, I got five hours sleep over three nights. By night three - I was ready to do some bodily harm. I didn't. But I sure was ready to.

Then there's that time you have reached the end of your tether. You can not do 'housework/child-minding' for one more minute. You BEG your husband for a night off and he grants it to you, albeit begrudgingly. As you are about to walk out of the door, your youngest, who is breast fed and you have timed the feeds to make it to the movie you've waited for for MONTHS and be back before she wakes again, and he (hubby) says, "Well, I can't do anything for her, you are the one with the boobs."

Or you plan a night out and know that it's a Monday, so hubby will be able to baby sit - only to discover that he has a business trip, planned months in advance, which he didn't mention to you because he assumed you would be home with the kids that night. Translation of this scenario: You (wife) are in a prison and he (husband) holds the key to your cell. NO chance to walk in the sun. NO visiting hours. NO escape. Well, maybe it isn't that dire in your case, but it certainly has potential to feel that way.

Or when you argue with your spouse over a point and you're saying the wall is yellow, while he says that the wall is skew. And you realise that no matter how many times you say the wall is yellow, he is still only hearing that the wall is skew. It's easy then to feel like you're never going to be happy again - well, at least, you will need to live with the wall you see as yellow, while all your hubby sees is a skew wall.

Or when you've just started running and have finally found your groove only to hear in the news that a female runner was raped less than two kilometres from your front door on her morning jog. Runners are all advised not to run alone. But I don't have a running partner - you think. I can't ask hubby to come home early from work, just for a jog - you think. Life is too unpredictable at the moment to commit to a running club - you think. ALL MY WORK HAS COME TO NOUGHT - you think.

Miss Watson got her head bashed in for thinking these thoughts and dwelling on the subject makes me feel I may deserve the same.  

But then I need to turn my focus on to the moments that remind me that we are meant to be happy. We are meant to grab those moments in life and hold on to them for dear life. Moments like hearing your children laughing their heads off at daddy playing silly bugger with them in the garden of your home - safe and sound and enjoying an early morning together.

Coming home after a vacation and realising that your favourite show has come back onto television and it's not scary at all; it's laugh-your-ass-off-funny. Or it's Glee.

Walking into your usual grocery store and seeing something new and delicious on the counters. And its on promotion. And it won't make you fat.

Waking up in the middle of the night to nurse your youngest and she grabs onto your like a monkey and hugs you hard.

Finding a book you love, and finding the time to read it.

A really great cup of tea.

A trip to the chiropractor.

A walk in the park with your dog. And you are able to take his lead off.

Waking up at night to the sound of rain.

Picking fresh veggies from your garden. Then seeing your toddler ravish them.

Seeing your child adore a gift you bought her at the cheapest store imaginable, far more than all the expensive stuff lying around the house.

Getting a few minutes of silence before you start the day, to read the Bible, write a blog post, or check up on Facebook.

If you knit these moments together, there is a lot of happiness to be had, even for Miss Watson. I feel she might have needed some of these joys dished out to her, before Norman did her in. Norman certainly needed a few of them - along with some serious therapy and probably some strong drugs of a psychotheraputical nature. These little moments - and there are so many of them - are like the chocolate chips in a batch of cookies, cookies are good but the chocolate chips make them something special.  They're what keeps us sane.

And dare I say, keep us happy, too?    


   






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