Baby Gym

Baby gym is heaven for any parent who has an active toddler! It is a massive hall with cars, soft play, bouncy castles and slides. Jack is in his element here and I can wonder around happy in the knowledge that he is wearing himself out! Clearly if I ate nothing but weetabix and fish fingers, slept in the afternoon and ran around until the moment before bedtime then I too would have boundless energy. I find I do people watch in the hall, there are many types of Mummy and I wonder where I fit into the pack. There is earth Mummy, she wears patchwork clothes, has her hair in dreadlocks and knits her own nappies. Her child eats organic food, has slept through the night since she was 2 weeks old and has been potty trained at 18 months. I have nothing against this Mummy but I find myself eyeing them up cautiously wondering if all is so perfect and calm under the surface, perhaps, I am just jealous. Then there is Tommy Hilfiger Mom. This mummy has perfect hair and nails, her outfit is co-ordinated, she hangs out and associates only with other model parents (therefore I have never spoken to one!), she looks healthy and like she has slept. Her children are pristine. The chavtastic Mum is sitting on one of the chairs, complete with greasy hair, a velour  tracksuit and an army of children. She rarely looks up from her phone to see what her darling is doing (usually clobbering some other poor child) and generally looks as if she can’t be bothered with life or children, what she does care about is what her mates Chardonnay and Beyonce are up to on a Saturday night. Of course, these Mums are all stereotypes and I don’t fit into any of those groups. So wear do I fit? I am wearing a hoodie, I have trainers on as they are the most comfortable and easiest thing to slip in and out of. My hair is straight on one side, Jack decided it was taking too long to straighten my entire head so my right side is permanently kinky. I am wearing makeup! But only the basics and as my Mum always used to say, enough not to scare the natives. I look tired though and have done since Jack was born, I chat to Mums who also have the same frayed expression and we chat about food, nappies and tantrums. Are we the non-Mum? Or are we the average Mum? It is odd trying to find an identity as a Mother, I am still trying to find mine. My aims for the day: do a load of washing, do the washing up, have a shower, wear clothes and put basic make-up on. 22 months on that seems like a pretty good target! An achievable one at least. I don’t bake my own bread every day, I don’t look like a cardboard cutout from a magazine and velour is just not my bag. I am the bobbing Mummy. Bobbing along in life and taking each day as it comes! Some days are good, others need to be closed as soon as possible preferably with a bottle of wine at the end of them. It is a journey and I wouldn’t have it any other way 🙂


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