Its Election Day in Australia. Frickin Frick.

If you live in Australia you will know that we have been relentlessly bombarded with the stupidest and most irrelevant of political campaigns for SEVEN FRICKIN WEEKS. Bored Bored Hate Them All Snore.

As one proud Australian summarised it so succinctly last night – most Aussies will be voting today “for the party that have managed to shit us the least”. Hmmm…what a way to choose the leaders of your country. 

However I woke up and prepared for this auspicious day in a ball of over extended hope. I had loads that I needed to get done, so I thought I would get my “I-wish-I-didn’t-have-to-vote” vote out of the way first thing. In fact, I had so many things planned for the day ahead, that the very thought of it all was making me hyperventilate.

The polling booths opened up at 8am, so I made sure I was there with my little one in my arms by 8:02am and no later.

I got to the top of the hill towards the school where I was voting, and noticed that my little man was becoming really heavy in my arms. Maybe I should have brought the pram with me? It was too late now, so I kept on trudging forward.

I got to the school yard and was incredibly dismayed. There was quite a line ahead of me… so much for getting in early when it would be quiet… I hopped in the line and started the mummy jiggle. The side to side wobble, trying to keep my baby glued to my hip whilst shifting the weight load over each foot.

Twenty minutes passed. My arms were beginning to burn and I had started to sweat. It was 13 degrees out there but with my baby attached to me and with the amount of clothing that I was wearing to battle the elements, I was heating up like an Eskimo standing on a fire pit in Thailand.

My poor baby started to grizzle and my arms started to shake.

Why didn’t I bring the god damn pram with me? Why did I think this would be a quick in and out?

Another ten minutes had passed and my baby was starting to let out some really outraged cries from being cooped up in my arms. It got to the point that people were now turning around to look at me on the sly, as I kept sweating and jiggling  and praying that we could move just a little quicker.

At one point, I put my baby down hoping that he would stand up for a few minutes on his own and give my arms just a few minutes to recharge. Naturally that didn’t work at all.

He yelled louder and grabbed at my arms, desperate to be scooped up once again. Even though my arms were burning and I wanted to cry, I picked him up again to try and quieten him down. It didn’t work.

Another ten minutes passed.

I was almost at my whits end but I was so close to the front of the line now, and therefore knew that the end was in sight. Thank goodness.

I was so hot that the sweat was really dripping down my face, but I couldnt take off my jacket because I couldnt even put my boy down without instant hysteria.

I pulled my sons hat off his head, as well as my own beanie in the attempt to cool us down a bit.

I then manouvered my phone out of my pocket and somehow whilst juggling my wee human and both of our hats, managed to put The Wiggles on.

They always makes my son happy and calm, but the position that I was holding him this morning made it damn near impossible for him to watch. He was so heavy that I needed both of my hands to hold him, so I ended up putting my phone away and giving up.

FINALLY it was our turn. I got the most ridiculously large ballot paper and headed over to the booth to cast my vote, when I realised I had a problem.

Well, shit. How was I going to write on the damn paper? I had no hands free!

I nervously put my son down again, making him stand up holding on to my legs so I could write what I needed to. Naturally he let out a wail like the world was ending. Shudder. People started looking my way again.

I wrote on those papers as quickly as I could, picked up my son again to calm him again and walked over to place my votes in the allocated bin’s, folding the papers as best I could with one hand. However the stupid white paper was too fat to fit in the slot and I had no hands free to fold it any finer.

The attendant watching 0ver the bins just looked at me. Just looked didn’t say anything. I was shaking. I was red faced. And yet he didn’t say a thing.

People were lining up behind me to put their votes in that bin, and none of them said anything either. No offer of help, nothing. Jerks.

I had to drop the hats on the floor allowing me enough fingers to poke and prod the damn thing through the opening until finally it dropped in. Thank you god. People were still quietly staring at me. Double jerks.

I swept the hats back up again with my briefly free hand, and with lips trembling, sweat dripping down my forehead, face red with embarrassment, and with a squirming crying baby in my arms, I exhaustedly trudged back to the car.

When I finally buckled my baby into his car seat, and picked up all of my credit cards that had just slipped out of my pocket onto the ground into a puddle (FRICKIN FRICK!), I hopped into the drivers seat, put my head into my hands and cried.

It was 9am, and already the day had broken me. The Election had broken me.

I needed to get home and have a wine.

 

Have you struggled on your own with your little one when out and about? Leave me a comment below, as I would love to hear about it! xxx

 

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