Last night we were hoping to catch a spectacular sunset at the beach. But it clouded over as we approached the coast and it was a bust. Trying to make a good thing out of it… we lugged the kids over to Oxford Street for a cruisey night out. Nothing fancy. Just dinner in a kebab shop and hot drinks in a cafe.
As we sat sipping our hot chocolates, I pointed out the eclectic jumble of dirt-moving toys and semi-naked Ken dolls strewn about the cafe interior. My two year old kept shouting, “MUMMY! LOOK! BIG YELLOW TRUCK! MAN NO CLOTHES!”
I love quirky cafes. Cafes that aren’t afraid of dirty mirrors, peeling paint, spider webs, split leather couches, faded retro fabrics, scuffed wooden floors and out of date magazines.
I just love that sense of being deeply confident, despite having a few rough edges. Or imperfections. Or shortcomings. Or just the kind of qualities that makes something unusual, unexpected and beautifully unique.
There’s a certain kind of self-confidence needed to make someone happy with the way they are. One that looks past the senseless and unattainable drive for perfection. Looks beyond imposed expectations. And looks inward, with a bit of faith, and smiles.
I sit, sipping my hot chocolate and I look at my kid. He grins and giggles uncontrollably as he slowly nibbles away at his pink marshmallow, savouring every delicious, mouth-watering and syrupy moment (he doesn’t eat sugary things at home). He waggles his legs and sings “Yummmmmmmmmy!”. It’s so cute. I pause and wonder, how on earth do I bring out this confidence in him? Lots of love, I guess. Is it really that simple?