It’s Tuesday today. Tuesdays suck. It’s still ages away from the weekend (when the ratio of adults to babies is more balanced) and Mr TMAOT is out “working” tonight. You’d be forgiven for thinking that work might mean ‘exertion or effort directed to produce or accomplish something,’ but in this particular case it means eating at a fancy pants restaurant (whilst I microwave myself a sad little frozen ready meal), drinking expensive red wine (fizzy pop for me) and talking about things he loves to people he likes (I’ll be mostly watching old episodes of the Kardashians). *Blows raspberry*.
It occurs to me that if I don’t take the girlies out somewhere in the daytime then it’s possible that I won’t speak to another human the entire day. Last week I realised that I hadn’t spoken to anyone who was capable of speaking back to me for 6 hours. I needed to see people who can walk without pushing a V-tech walker and say more than ‘Dada’. Off we went to the supermarket to buy some bits and potentially have a conversation with someone. As I walked into Waitrose I ignored the ‘Quick Check’. Too unsociable. No cashier to chat to at the end that way. I wandered around expecting someone to say ‘Are they twins? /You’ve got your hands full! /Double Trouble etc…’ but no one did. Not one. I got to the till. That’s usually where supermarket cashiers coo over my little people and tell me their twin tales. But no. The cashier continued a conversation with the cashier next to her only breaking off to tell me to enter my pin number. I felt so sad. In every way that the word ‘sad’ can be construed.
Not today. I am a proactive go-getter type today. Today I am better than that weirdo in Waitrose! (Mainly because I am now shunning them in favour of the far friendlier Sainsburys.) I went on ‘Brighton and Hove Mummy Club’ to ask what baby groups are on. By coincidence, someone else had asked the same question. ‘Tots that Rock’ at the Stoneham Pub someone said. “Today my lovely lovelies, you are going to BE tots that rock!” I told the babies. “You rock baby!” I say with my hand in the air, forefinger and little finger out. “Woo hoo!” Girlie One misunderstands my super-cool gesture and starts waving at me.
I realise that the class starts at 10.30am. It’s now 9.45am and I’m still in my pyjamas. Spurred on by my love of spontaneity (which is rarely used with two small nap-needing, milk-drinking, set-in-stone-mealtime-eating, last-minute-poo-producing, time-devouring people) we actually make it to the group…10 minutes late (obvs).
Gotta love a baby group in a pub. They know their target audience in Brighton. The Stoneham pub is great for kids as it’s really big and has now got a soft play area. Mummy can drink Prosecco at the bar whilst the toddlers play with huge plastic shapes. Finally – the sort of parenting I can relate to. 😉
‘Tots that rock’ involves an incredibly enthusiastic pair who play guitar, harmonica and sing. It’s full on energy and it’s LOUD. Really loud. My girlies just looked on in stunned silence for a while. Girlie Two clung on to me…until instruments for the babies were put out and then she crawled off without even a cursory glance back. Girlie One on the other hand was quite the groupie – right at the front, bopping away. She even gave them a standing ovation at the end. (Well, she clapped a few times.) The girlies had a great time and I spoke to other adults (about children of course).
The moral of the story? If you’re feeling lonely and have small kids…go to the pub at 10.30 on a Tuesday morning. Everyone will love it.