i worry how i would react
if matthew became
any of the following:

a born-again christian
a smoker
an economist
someone with terrible taste in music
someone who works in advertising

milkshakes of choice today

mike
vanilla (always vanilla)

debbie
chocolate

matthew
breast

I was in the supermarket today. Late Sunday afternoons are usually good times to go, not a lot of people around.

Take One:

Anyway, I met up with an old university friend. Someone I know fairly well, we'd even spent 4 weeks cycling around the South Island together with another friend. He's just had his second baby, a little girl. So we swapped new dad stories, and phone numbers and made plans to keep in touch. I hope we do, and I'll make an effort to see it happens.

Take Two:

I had just finished shopping and was looking for a queue to get into. I pride myself on my ability to find the fastest queue. A small thing I know, but usually I do it well.

Anyway, I saw my friend in a queue. So I turned my head away before he saw me and trundled my cart quickly down the other end of the queuing aisles and found one. I actually found a very good one this way, with a teenage boy behind the till. It was surprising he was so fast, because usually teenage boys are the slowest. Just goes to show. Stereotypes.

I kept looking up to see how my friend was doing. Hoping he'd go out the shop the other entrance than me, or that I'd finish first and be able to scurry out.

Well, I finished first, got out, unpacked my cart and was returning it when he walked out of the supermarket. So I had to notice him, and we talked etc. And it was fine.

My actions had nothing to do with this particular person. I avoid people I know all the time. Some of it is I am shy. Some of it is I am not good at small talk. And some of it is I like my own company, especially while travelling, so try and avoid striking up conversations.

But you know the main reason I usually avoid people I know?

I have this deep-seated belief that people don't really like me. Or that's maybe a bit strong. More that I'm not the sort of person they find interesting enough to enjoy talking with. So, to save them the trouble, and myself the embarrassment of having it proved to me, I avoid them. Keep my head down. Cross the road. Pretend to read something.

I don't know where this comes from. It's a feeling I've had as long as I can remember. I doubt it's something based on reality. People probably do like me. But I think it's something that affects my ability to make friends.

From about 5pm to 10.30pm tonight, either Deb or I were holding Matthew, feeding Matthew (this would be Deb!), changing his nappy, walking with him, or sitting beside him rubbing his stomach hoping he would go to sleep.

I kept building up my stress levels thinking of all I had still to do tonight and how I was running out of time. Deb kept building up her stress levels worrying that Matthew wasn't getting enough milk from her.

Sometimes he's like this. He just won't settle: almost falls asleep, then starts wailing. He doesn't have a pretty baby's cry. It's a wail. It's annoying. It goes right through you.

I think it's mainly wind. And he does settle eventually, but it can take hours. It's draining dealing with him at these times.

Still. Twice today he smiled at me. Big genuine goofy smiles. It melts my heart.