Yesterday, I was watching ‘trash’ America TV drama….
I love it. Pure escapism!
Plus it fuels my vision for life… Dreaming is allowed…. And one needs inspiration for that sometimes…
My drama of choice is ‘Peak Practice’… I’ve always loved a good medical drama – ER, Greys… but I think this is my favourite. I love the characters and I use bits of them to fuel what I would love in my life…
I would love a calm Sam, a soppy Coop and moody Pete… especially in my work place! What a support group… and Sam’s muscles!… you know they would come to your rescue if you were stuck!
And the fashion… and the girls…
I would love some of Charlotte’s Badass… her no nonsense, ‘I don’t give a cr*p’, bravery.. Violet’s compassion, Addi’s wardrobe, jewelry and fashion sense… and while Nai’s amazing cleavage wouldn’t look right on me, her toned arms sure are something I am working towards…
But it was one scene that grabbed my attention. Violet, a medical therapist has had her medical license revoked. (Brief storyline – baby got cut out of her by a pschyopath, she nearly died, she went AWOL, she wrote a book about the experience, became a top seller… psychopath sees it as crossing the line of client / patient confidentiality… bye-bye medical license).
As a consequence of not being able to work or see patients, she tries to embrace motherhood with her son (who survived). In doing so, she meets up with other ‘Mom’s’ who don’t work professionally and look after their toddlers. The stage is set with 3 beautifully groomed ladies, designer dresses, with frills and jewels, drinking wine while their children play happily on mats… and the discussion is pure gossip – about other women, children and their husbands, who they all totally hate and dismiss.
This made me feel uncomfortable…
It was totally stereotypical…
For anyone who has been a toddler of a 2 year old, particular a boy – there is no wearing heels as you have to run to catch them, constantly… they are always doing something they shouldn’t – climbing, running in to a road…falling over. You can’t wear jewelry – long necklaces anyway – they get yanked. Designer clothes… well I can tell you, most of the time, I was in jeans and James’ polo shirt as I was constantly having food smeared all over me. And wine! Hell yes… but not till they were in bed!
It made me feel uncomfortable, because it wasn’t a true representation of reality.
It made me feel uncomfortable, because that is exactly what I thought Mum’s who didn’t work did! Ladies who lunched…
Until, I chose to become a Mum who didn’t ‘work’.
(Tangent and off topic but at least a Mum who decided that working in a job for someone else wasn’t going to ‘work’ for my family and instead found multiple ways to provide personal satisfaction, stimulation and income by working for myself.. alongside putting in the hard graft unpaid work as a mother).
The scene came back to me this morning as after dropping off the boys at school, I did meet with a couple of other Mum’s who have made similar choices as I have. I have blogged about our discussions previously – particularly about the ‘to work, not to work’ debate.
And today’s topics were broad and varied. Yes, there is always discussion about our children. Rather than moan and complain, we share strategies and tactics about how we can help them overcome challenges – night terrors was one topic, nightmares or ‘bad thought’s was another, playground bullying and how to help our children overcome it, based on our experiences too.
We also discussed music and art. We discussed talent in those fields… who we admired, who got it right and who got it wrong.
We discussed detox – who was doing it, who was not and who had succumbed!
We drank green tea and coffees and while we looked smart, we were booted and scarved and totally practical for professional Mum’s.
It was a power hour of stimulation… not of idle gossip and people bashing. Refreshing.
Maybe it is different in America, in California?
But then my perception was the same as the producers… until I lived it. Maybe there-in lies the lesson. Our worlds are our perceptions of what we choose to believe..
I chose to believe that that was what life was life if you didn’t have a ‘job’. So I never left my job… I was safe and comfortable thinking the grass wasn’t greener. I kept telling myself I wasn’t a risk taker.
I was happy thinking there was no alternative.
I was happy telling myself that the alternative wasn’t for me.
Until I decided to change.
Perception is everything.
The alternative is for me. I made it that way.
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