I had this great vision off going out lovely long walks with Rory and meeting up with my other Mum friends. We would walk for miles and pop into a lonely bustling cafe for coffee and cake. It is sometimes like that. But often not.
“How shit has your day been? How important is the cake?” asks Donna. These days my life is measured in cake terms. We drive to DeWaldens with no walking involved at all when things are particularly bad. It’s so noisy that nobody can really notice your baby crying and they do awesome cakes.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck” shouts Lizzie as we wander through Dean Park. Our babies both look at her. “Oh. It’s just a squirrel”. The babies look from the squirrel to Lizzie. I am quite sure as they start to recognise animals we may have to reinforce that this is indeed a little squirrel and not anything sweary. Sometimes I try and meet in more sophisticated surroundings. Like M&S in Silverburn. Fail. Whilst I chat to one of my Water Babies Mum’s (who suggested the location), Rory has grabbed my nipple and stretched it like a bungee cord whilst simultaneously spewing down my trousers. It’s just not worth it. The whole thing is frightfully stressful. I totally understand why a lot of Mum’s just stay at home.