It happened. It finally happened. Four months of dreading this moment and it actually happened. I think it's one of those senarios that all new mothers, nannies, au pairs alike all dread. That moment when everyone from smug mothers to knowing Grannies give you THAT look. That look that without saying a word, says a thousand.
It happened on a normal Monday morning, where I decided to take Charlotte and Ben to the park. Off I go, double buggy in tow, everything under control until Ben starts to lose it. By the time I get to the coffee shop (needs must!) he's starting to make that face which tells me I have about three minutes until his face starts to turn purple and there is no way of reigning it back as he develops into full on screaming. Of course, the coffee shop is packed and that's when I start getting 'the look'. It wavers from the sympathetic 'oh that poor girl' which is fine, I can cope with the humiliation of being unable to control a 3 month old baby, to the 'that irrisponsible girl is too young to have children and she can't even take care of them!' When the pregnant barista starts asking me if it's my first, how I found my pregnancy and so on, I am mortified! To be honest, I'm surprised it hasn't happened sooner, because at 22, it's not unreasonable to supposed that I have a baby, but the judgmental eyes make me feel even less in control, and about the size of a pea.
Anyway, we manage to scuttle off, me balancing my skinny latte precariously ontop of the buggy trying desperately to leave as quickly as possible whilst Ben is still cracking it. Of course, by now Charlotte is bored and decides she wants to walk. That's fine, but I'm desperate to get to the playground so I can get Ben out and try to settle him before Lori comes to pick him up. So we are hurrying away and Charlotte trips and scrapes her knee. I now have full on screaming from Ben AND Charlotte, just as a yummy mummy sprints past in her skin tight yoga pants. Ground please swallow me up. Can it get any worse? OF COURSE IT CAN! Because we finally get to the playground and Charlotte needs a wee. So I shove everyone back in the buggy and race to the opposite side of the park praying she won't relieve herself before we get to the toilets. Hurrah, the potty training gods were on my side and panic is over. As soon as she's finished, Ben stops crying, Charlotte is skipping off to the playground and I can breathe a sigh of relieve (whilst ignoring the bitchy looks from yummy mummy number 2 and her beautiful son sitting quietly eating his fruit box).
Hey, Charlotte had way more fun kicking my bum whilst I pretended to fall over on the swings eating jelly snakes than him eating his mango, loganberry and acai berry fruit box whilst his mother shot me disapproving looks at my childish (aka fun) behaviour
Georgie: 1 Stuck up yummy mummy:0
