Sorry for being a *!@?

I think my fellow Gorillamums and I are all realising this at the same time. They may say it more eloquently than I, but my personal conclusion is that I was a bit of a kn*b to other mums before I had my own baby.

I want to say sorry. I want to say sorry for the time I went to my friend’s for dinner and when her hubby said she was upstairs feeding the baby before bed, I went up “to say hi” and started having a chat. The baby was turning round to look, wouldn’t feed, started getting all excited, I mean, it must have taken all her willpower not to throw her breast feeding pillow at me screaming “what sort of an idiot are you? Get out get out get out damn you or he’ll never go down!”.

I want to say sorry to all the mums who offered me their baby and I held it until it started crying and then gave it back straight away without thinking for one second of trying to quiet it myself so she could at least get a chance to shake out her back and get the feeling back in her hands.

I’m sorry for the time I said to my aunty that I’d take my 3 year old cousin out to Coney Island for the day and then being surprised when he poohed his pants as soon as we got home. I mean “I asked him if he needed the toilet and he said no” (when does a 3 year old ever go to the toilet when he has the option to cr*p his pants instead?). I feel that now might be the time to admit that all he had to eat that day was some cotton candy and a spiral lollypop “I asked him if he would eat the sandwich but he didn’t want it”.

I’m sorry to my best mate whose brand new daughter I was too scared to feed. What I should have done was say, like she said to me “I’ll take her for a couple of hours, you go and have a sleep”. Instead I fed her like a total moron, terrified I was choking her, then gave her back to my friend during winding because I was scared her head would fall off “it’s really wobbly”.

I’m sorry for all the birth stories I listened to and said “ew”. Instead of “you are amazing”.

I’m sorry for every time I walked through a door and didn’t even notice the woman behind me with the pram. That goes for stairs, buses and tubes too.

I’m sorry I asked to move seats on the plane that time because there was a baby behind me that had been screaming its head off for 3 hours. I’m sorry I didn’t either offer to take the baby for a walk so the mum could take some deep breaths or at least get that poor woman a large gin and tonic. I could just have offered a smile that said “don’t worry, no one on here minds, you just try and relax, the baby can probably sense that you’re willing it with every fibre of your being to Just. Go. To. Sleep.” but no. I asked the cabin crew to move me and they did and the worst thing ever is, I went to sleep. I went to sleep. That poor woman was at baggage claim five hours later looking like the living dead. I am so ashamed.

I vow from now on to fully and whole heartedly support the “Mum-sterhood” – I’m there with you now, I can take your baby and have it cry and not throw it back at you like it’s made of anthrax, I will try to make it happy again and let you have a rest. I can smile at you sympathetically when your baby is screaming and selfish little upstarts like the 19 year old me are giving you dirty looks. I was on the receiving end of one the other day and you know what? I just smiled to myself and thought, “you might be trying to celebrate the end of your A Levels in this nice pub with your mates, but you know what? It’s the only pub round here which has space for 4 prams, it’s walking distance from my flat, it’s raining and I have lost my pushchair’s rain cover and further more, little pup, in a few years time, you will be sitting over here with your mum friends trying desperately to make your baby stop crying and I will be sitting over there with my two children playing outside nicely and I will smile at you as if to say, “don’t worry, we’ve all been there”.

OR my kids will be running round screaming, having tantrums, throwing food and playing computer games and you will still be giving me dirty looks, but I will still smile at you. Because one day you will be the mother of a 7 year old and….and…oh we could go on forever.


© gorillamums 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material or media (including images) without express and written permission from this blog’s authors and/or owners is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to gorillamums with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Mum mates (if there’s a fire – I know they’ve got my back)

I wanted to write about the importance of having a mum support network. I started loads of times and couldn’t really find the words to truly emphasise just how important it’s been for me personally. I could just say “it’s really f*cking important”. But that’s a bit sweary and not very helpful. So I have decided to tell you about my own support network and you can fill in for yourself how you think they have each individually and together helped me, supported me, reassured me and made me laugh out loud at 4:20am.
Before you read this you should know that I’m not great at putting people in boxes and figuring them out straight away – in fact I’m pretty terrible at it. My technique for understanding people is to think of what they’d be like in a fire and work back from there. Don’t ask me why but it seems to work.
Nina – the cool one; looks cool, speaks cool, just is cool. But completely effortlessly. She’s that girl in the year above you at school who you tried to do your hair like, but failed. Motivational through her sheer belief that things will be great. In a fire Nina would be the one slapping you round the face saying “get a grip you idiot, and don’t forget the marshmallows for toasting!”.
Ruth – so together but with such a witty, cheeky sense of humour, she makes me want to type “LOL” and I never type LOL. Takes everything in her stride, seemingly completely unflappable. In a fire she’d be the person standing on the front lawn (maybe with a G&T) wondering what all that fuss was about and secretly wondering if it’s too soon to crack a joke about the fact I forgot to put on trousers in all the panic.
Raluca – one of the most nurturing people I have ever met, so caring, huge heart and seems to worry about herself last. You could bottle her and use her to heal the hardest of hearts. In a fire she’d be the one taking care of anyone that was singed and listening to your pathetic tale of the splinter you got in your finger trying to open the front door.
Bianca – a force to be reckoned with. I don’t think I’ve ever met a person more sure of their own mind or where they stand. If we were in some mythical time, she’d be the one wearing the skull of the last person that p*ssed her off as a necklace and leading the rebel army, possibly whilst riding a dragon. In a fire she’d be the person kicking the living daylights out of the person who started it.
Vicky – touchingly thoughtful, thinks of others constantly and one of those people you vow to be more like every year, you know, the one who never misses your special day and moreover whose card arrives on time, and is personalised. The one who makes you shake your head in wonder and go “…she remembered”. In a fire she’d be the one to save your most treasured item that you forgot when you ran out panicking.
Anna – the kind of person you are with for five minutes and just feel better about life in general. Infectiously positive with a thousand watt smile that just makes you feel OK about the world. The human equivalent of looking at a tranquil sea. In a fire Anna would be cheering you on whilst you tried to dig yourself out through the floor with a spoon, before gently drawing your attention to the fact that she’d unlocked the front door. Then reassure you that digging was a good plan though.
Bree – human ray of sunshine. Excited and vivacious about life, magnetic; draws people to her. Makes you feel energised and want to go and run through a meadow shrieking “everything’s going to be awesome” or make her a friendship bracelet and solemnly vow to become blood brothers forever. In a fire Bree would save everyone. Then make the firemen and cup of tea. Or glass of wine.
Sophia – Considered, intelligent, sweet hearted and completely stunning. So modest you could miss out on knowing her unless you really needle in there. The kind of person you could spend a whole day talking to and never run out of things you want to know about her. In a fire Sophia would be the one grabbing a can of beans, an oven glove and a bag of flour and fashioning an extinguisher. She learned it the time she ran a fire training camp in the Outer Hebrides for a year. The answer to your next question is “because you never asked”


© gorillamums 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of any material or media (including images) without express and written permission from this blog’s authors and/or owners is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to gorillamums with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.