Why does having a baby fill your head with damp cotton wool and destroy the connections between your brain and your fingers?
Yesterday I took the Smalls on the train to our pretty county town to enjoy the sunshine and have a browse around the shops. It was the first time I dared do it alone – I had to get brave and go otherwise I was going to hide at home forever. Just me, the double-buggy and a train was a catalogue of horror stories in my head and every day I didn’t go just added another one.
It wasn’t all that bad. A nice lady helped me heave the buggy over the huge great gap between the platform and the train at one end and I
bullied persuaded a chav lovely young man to help at the other end. Excellent start – I felt good. I strolled to the shopping centre and decided to have a mooch around and window shop a little.
And then it began…
First I ran over a very large man. In my defence he did just randomly stop walking when he was in front of me, but that didn’t feel like a great excuse when he turned round looking all angry. I mumbled an apology and walked rapidly away.
Second I crashed the buggy into a clothes rack and got it totally stuck. Luckily Tori thought it was hilarious and none of the shop staff noticed so I made yet another swift exit.
Third, I bought us all sandwiches for lunch and put them away in a bag for when we found somewhere nice to eat them. Then forgot all about them. And bought some more in another shop. And ate them on the train home having forgotten about them again.
Fourth, I took Tori to Clarks to see if she’d finally grown enough to buy some proper shoes and, as I pulled her out of the pushchair, watched as a lovely wet patch formed across the top of her trousers. Cue rapid nappy change in the corner of the shoe shop, during which Tori managed to wriggle free and run off across the place completely nappy-less and clutching two random shoes off a shelf. Got her changed only to discover I’d left the pack of nappy-bags at home and just had to stuff the soggy nappy and trousers into my bag earning me a funny look from the girl waiting to measure Tori’s feet. On the plus side, she HAD grown and now has some swish shoes to wear that really fit her properly. Hurrah!
Once I got home I could stop worrying about running people over and driving my children into shop displays…so then I foolishly decided to go again today. Evil sunshine filling me with the urge to get out and about!
Off we went. Again there were no hiccups getting on or off the train as I worked the ‘pathetic new mum’ look on unsuspecting bystanders. However I should have realised what direction the day was taking when I completely failed to put my money in the Train Conductors hand and threw it on the floor instead.
By the end of the day I may have gained lots of lovely new clothes (I was under strict instructions to treat myself from Sy. What girl can refuse such an offer?) but I had also made a twit of myself on multiple ocassions.
1. I poured half a Fruit Shoot down Tori’s lovely white t-shirt whilst trying to pass her the bottle.
2. I crashed into another rack of clothes except this time Tori decided to grab hold of them all and it took me an age to disentangle her.
3. I poured fruit juice down Tori’s replacement top for no apparent reason other than my hands didn’t work and I just sort of flung it at her. (I had to buy her a whole new outfit, such a shame)
4. I bought Arthur a funky new sunhat. I totally forgot to put it on him when we went for our walk,
5. Changing Tori’s nappy on the train, I realised I hadn’t put the nappy bags in again. Luckily she was just wet and not smelly…
Why? Why has the arrival of my children caused the departure of my brain and what little hand-to-eye-coordination I used to have? It’s a miracle that I haven’t tried to put Arthur in the fridge and tucked the milk into the Moses basket really…