Tuesday, 11 February 2014

Biceps, chicken korma and fire engines

There are certain things in this life I have vowed never to do.
I mean apart from the obvious, such as thou shall not kill, no matter how much a person has peed you off. Or thou shall not run off with best friend's husband, no matter how much he makes you laugh.
If you have a conscience and you're a nice person, there are probably quite a few things you would never contemplate. But putting aside all the glaringly obvious stuff, I am referring to the little every day things you see and hear, and mentally note to yourself, "I'm never doing that!"
I have a 'forbidden list' in my head, it's a substantial list, and a couple of the items are as follows:
If and when I am lucky enough to be a mother, I will never discuss the contents of my babies nappies, because I have heard this conversation before and quite frankly it's gross, and why would you want to dwell on it and make someone feel sick by elaborating on something which should go in a dustbin and stay in a dustbin.
Also, if I do become a mother one day, I shall never sit in a public bar and show complete strangers pictures of my child/children and not notice their eyes glaze over and mistakenly think they are interested in every moment of my child's life, when they have never met my offspring and are highly unlikely to.
Dear readers, it is with deep regret that I must inform you, I have failed fantastically to achieve the above. One could say I have let my standards slip. Or I've merely become caught up in the moment and forgot about my 'forbidden list'.
You see, it was my friend Sophie's hen night at the weekend. I left daddy in charge of Tommy, and feeling like my right arm had been chopped off, I boarded, without my three and a half month's old son, two trains to a bar in London.
We'd purchased tickets to see The Dreamboys, with a hot buffet and a complimentary cocktail. That's right, The Dreamboys, the ones with the bulging biceps and risky dance routines. Not really my thing but I put on my polka dot dress and brown boots and joined my friend never the less.
But I couldn't help worrying about/thinking of Tommy. He's only three and a half month's old and time apart from him is very, very limited.
To put my mind at rest, hubby promised to text regular updates and I assured him I would check in as often as possible.
So, and regrettably not the first time, nappy contents were discussed over text. I know, I know, it aint pleasant, yet it's become common practice. It's easy to mock when you don't have a little 'un and you don't realise how important normal bladder and bowel functions are. I know I used to mock anyway, BT (before Tommy). And in case you were curious, chicken korma was my favourite Indian meal. Not any more.
It does not end there. I'm afraid, dearest readers, that I broke another one of my rules from the 'forbidden list'.
Last Saturday, whilst we were perched in our booth, after dancing on chairs and laughing at the men in the ridiculously tight shorts, I showed lots of pictures of Tommy, from my mobile, to a girl I have never met before.
"That's him in his fire engine pyjamas, isn't he cute!"
I then looked up to check the reaction from the girl I was over indulging with Tommy pics. She was desperately looking around the room, probably wondering who could rescue her or what was a polite reason to run.
Oh dear. What has happened to me? I have become the person I never thought I would become. I am doing things I vowed never to do.
I need to stop breaking my own rules. I must remind myself of the 'forbidden list'. If I fail to comply with any other items, there could be carnage. It could be an unsafe world, for everyone.
I need to find a quiet, dark, room and re-evaluate my life.
Believe me, it's in your best interest.

I dare you.


Mine'a a white wine please.


Dancing.


Would you like a beer?

5 comments:

Amel said...

Nikki, I think it's very normal to want to share your happiness with others, especially seeing how gorgeous Tommy is, but I agree that some people may not be interested or they may not feel up to it, but you can always share them in your blog if you want to. After all, it's YOUR space. :-D

And I've just had this convo with a heavily pregnant friend and another mother that once you become a mother, it's not the same anymore - you can go out with friends but you're still thinking of your baby/child. :-) I remember my mom telling me over and over again a story of when I was still a baby. My grandma had told my parents that she was willing to take care of me for a few hours so that they could have a date at the cinema. At the cinema, though, mom couldn't concentrate on the movie at all, especially after her breasts started to feel painful because of the milk production, so they decided to leave early.

Upon coming to my grandma's place, grandma was confused and said, "Why on earth are you here already? The baby's fine and not fussing at all." LOL LOL!!!

Kate said...

Here's a suggestion: a four picture limit. That's how my friend Rebecca handles the picture-showing urge: just four, no more.

And I'm sure you don't need me to tell you: going out with your lady-friends is super-important. And so is leaving Tommy to his dad. I went back to work when my kids were 6 weeks old, and that meant that two evenings a week, while I taught night-school, Simon was alone with the baby. He got to be really good at it and felt like a better dad. It fun to read your blog and watch you doing everything right! You are a great mom!

The World According To Me said...

Thanks Amel, expect more pics of Tommy soon! (Well, you did say it was okay!)
I can relate to your mum's story only too well.

The World According To Me said...

Hmm, Kate, I shall try to remember the four picture limit!
6 weeks old hey, but it was good Simon got to interact at an early age.
Thanks for saying I'm a great mum, that means a lot to me.

Amel said...

Bring on Tommy's gorgeous photos! :-D