The Making of Mummy

Being a new mum is like starting at a new school. When you go on your first outing to a mothers group its like being on your first day at primary school all over again. You already feel a bit uncertain with your Mummy Skills (and probably worry when your little bundle will erupt into a full blown cry in public and how you will handle it). Next you start getting anxious as you wonder  if you packed enough nappies, wipes, dummies, chocolate? Then after taking approximately an hour and a half to get ready to leave the house (and that was just preparing your new baby for the outing; she goes through more outfit changes than you do in a week, mind you you don’t vomit or poop on your clothes so fair call) you finally make it out the front door.

So you survive the car trip, baby only screamed at you nearly the entire journey, and you tried gentle shushing, then reasoning with the little baby but the talking was really only to keep you sane. After realising nothing will stop your little boss from screaming her head off (heck, even rocking the car with the breaks whilst stopped at traffic lights didn’t work) you decided to turn up the music and sing, what difference did it make? Anyway you finally arrive and after figuring out how to carry your oversized nappy bag as well as your baby you make it to your destination. You notice the mums standing and sitting about with their babies. They look confident but you swear you see a flicker of fear within that one mum’s eyes as her baby screams out loud and she nervously comforts her trying not to make a scene, and from that instant you know you are going to be besties.

All the new mums look a little fragile, but they hide it well. The shock of the birth still fresh in their minds makes them jump easily. Gradually you share your war stories,discussing who had the longest labour, the biggest tear, the most bleeding, the cut. Next the focus shifts to your babies and you discuss who has the best sleeper, the strongest, longest, most hairy, most alert baby. A little competition goes unnoticed…for now. After a few weeks of outings you get the hang of it. You naturally cluster with mothers who seem to be similar to you, whether through similar birthing experiences, or the fact you have the same pram, and cliques begin to form.

As you baby grows you have more of these nervous “first outings”. Fast forward three years and I experience the whole first day at school thing again when my eldest started preschool. As if the first day wasn’t hard enough, all the tears, mine of course. I’m learning how to coordinate the preschool morning (having lunch and bag packed and ready with all those preschool necessities, dressing two little beings whilst heavily pregnant and racing to the loo every other minute, then remembering to pack everything including the kids into the car). So there we were, second week of preschool and I hear the gentle laughter of mothers bonding over tea in one of the preschool rooms. I ask the teacher what was going on, “A meet and greet, go on and join them”. Now the teacher’s at my Miss 3’s preschool are all very lovely and we are super impressed with the centre. But I must say I wasn’t on form that morning. I mean where was the note about this meet and greet? I must have misplaced it somewhere. How is it only week 2 and I already don’t know what’s happening? Primary school is going to be hard! Other mothers seemed informed, unless they take plates of home baked sweets with theme everywhere?

Racing through my head I begin to worry (‘Oh crap, I had no idea about this meet and greet, perhaps I shouldn’t have worn my retainer, or used moisturiser for hair gel, and maybe tracksuit pants wasn’t the best clothing choice and did I shave under my arms because I’m starting to sweat and I want to take my jumper off but now I don’t know if that is a good idea!’). I walk in with a smile. Remember, I’m representing Miss 3 here, I’ve got to make a good first impression for her sake. Looking around I scan the room. Which mums look approachable. Oh there’s one with a toddler about the age of my Miss 18 months, maybe we could be friends? Look she wears her baby in the same carrier we have used, maybe we can be friends? Wait, that mum looks a mess like me, she’s probably the best bet for a Mummy friend.

So we go through the stress of finding Mummy friends, and if the friendship works out we arrange a few play-dates, but truth be told we hardly, if ever see our Mummy friends as soon as one of us has more than one kid. It becomes impossible to schedule any time to meet up because someone is always sick, having a tantrum, has an appointment, dance lesson, swimming class, is sick (did I already mention someone is always sick?). But we try, and we feel like we have some friends, and when we do finally get the chance to catch up (even though we hardly have anything to say as Mummy Brain strikes again because after talking with your little bosses all day every day your conversational skills go down the toilet) we feel happy because at least we have been listened to. Well kind of, as their toddler tugs at their pants and their preschooler yells “Mummy, Mummy, MUM! Watch me, Watch MEEEE!”.Then we go home and realise we have our best friends with us all the time; our kids! And we wonder what all the nervousness was about because we know we’re great at our job and we don’t need anyone else to validate that for us.