On Tour With the Kid - Some Assembly Required
With Christmas only just gone, these feelings are still fresh in my mind. I want to say upfront that the stress reflected in this story is nothing to do with the company or the product - both of which are amazing. It had more to do with my stubborn nature and the generational inability to ask for help.
After a year that kept us all trapped inside, I decided that I wanted the big present for the Kid this silly season to be something that would get her off the iPad and outside. I settled on a swing set. There were two things I wanted from this purchase. Being just into double digits and quite tall, I wanted something that she could still use now and for a couple of years to come. This was more difficult than it sounds as lots of swings are not designed for an older child.
The other thing I wanted was something that was made by an Australian based company. The pandemic had decimated not only my industry but lots of different ‘luxury’ industries, so I thought if I was making a big purchase, the least I could do is help keep the money in Australia.
There was a second motivation for the Australian made product which I freely admit. Building anything is not my strong suit. I have other skill sets, and it's not like I'm an idiot. It's not, however, something I enjoy. Being a little bit of a control freak with the aforementioned inability to accept help occasionally leads to a full-on adult meltdown. The upside of this is mostly for my friends and neighbours, who were kept highly entertained with the ongoing saga of the swing.
You are all excited when the boxes arrive, picturing the fully formed swing set sitting in your back yard and the hours of fun that your kid and their friends will have on it for years to come. You then unpack the boxes, count up the number of bolts, say to yourself on multiple occasions ‘what the hell does that bit do’ or ‘why the hell do I need this many Allen keys’, and then it finally dawns on you. There is an enormous job ahead of me.
The instructions will always say something like; it takes four men six hours to get this built. Being from a family full of women who are just so accustomed to being able to do anything they want, and conventional wisdom be damned, I decided those instructions weren't meant for me. I decided that despite offers of help from my partner, as well as every one of my friends and their husbands, that it's a parents job to do this independently. There should always be the story of struggle and triumph that will be retold every time a new person comes to your house for a BBQ, and the kids all jump on the said swing set.
It was this self-aggrandising and somewhat foolish attitude that led to me sitting on the grass in a puddle of tears wondering why this dohickey wouldn't go into this other stupid thing (all very technical terms which I'm sure you will be familiar with if you have spent any quality time with a flat pack). Being a little more dramatic than most, it also leads to me putting two pieces together, that weren’t meant to go together. Getting them apart involved swearing, crying, and finally tying a tow rope to either end and pulling them apart with the car (for those playing along at home, this is not the recommended instructions).
The company was sensational and put up with my constant emails and phone calls which swung wildly between desperate and indignant. It turns out, the reason you shouldn't do it on your own without the help of friends and loved ones, is because although you can do it on your own, having someone else taking the pressure off makes the whole experience more smooth and less stressful, just like parenting. Note to self: Take help when it's offered.
