Confidence and canines

Saturday, August 2 08

“Why is it that women always have a tendency to either put themselves down or believe they can’t do something everyone else believes they can?” thought Mrs Bennet. Now she was a year older, she was in that pondering mode.

“I suppose it’s a question of confidence. The thing is the umbilical cord (with a child attached at the other end) seems to sap confidence. That’s it! It’s transferred to the child who suddenly believes it’s the centre of everything, it is in control and can demand what it wants.”

Mr Bennet was right to worry about her sometimes. Mrs Bennet worried about Mrs Bennet too especially when she talked to herself . Yesterday marked a nine year milestone of baby making, nappy changing and milk producing. She had loosely decided to officially close the milk bar for good, but found she couldn’t do it. Instead Miss Kezia Bennet tucked in as usual showing no signs of giving up her mother’s supply.

This time next year Mrs Bennet would be 40, ending a decade of baby production, but marking, she hoped, the start of a new era. With building work due to start in October, she asked Mr Bennet if he could reassure her that it would be complete by her birthday. Then her 40th birthday would represent a more spacious and hopefully more sleepful season.

Thinking about the confidence issue, she acknowledged that her’s had had a battering over the decade. Mrs Bennet always knew if it was dwindling if she started saying “sorry” for things that weren’t even her fault. At those times she tended to slouch instead of walk with her head high and she was more likely to trip over her own feet. What had been easy before children, Mrs Bennet now found was like climbing Everest. At 23 she had taken herself off to Fiji for seven months, got the right flight at the right time, fought off rats, cockroaches and geckoes and didn’t think anything of it. Now, going anywhere on her own was so alien, it was almost scary.

Her mind was abruptly brought back to the present. She was munching on a crisp and in swallowing it, must have gulped down part of one of her back teeth, because it was no longer there. She felt sick in her stomach. Her tongue rolled over what felt very strange, something was missing and it would cost a lot of money – money she didn’t have – to replace it.

“Going to the dentist is just like putting your car in for an MOT. Everything is fine until you come out. And suddenly you have a hefty bill. I had the all clear at my check up the other day, and now I’m going to have to go back and get this tooth repaired. Why couldn’t it have done that while I was still on maternity exemption?”

The issue of confidence was put away to think about on another occasion. Now she was fed up – her tongue wouldn’t stop rubbing against what seemed a huge missing crater and she’d now have to get an appointment – before the family camping expedition began. Oh joy. But it would give her chance to sit down for a few minutes. Even it was a dentist’s chair, it was at least a chair!