The other morning Elliott and I were in Costa at our local shopping centre. Elliott was sat in his high chair and I was slathering a toasted tea cake with butter. This all sounds very ordinary doesn’t it? And it was. That was the amazing thing about it.
You see as I sat there making chit chat with Elliott as he watched the glass lift swoosh up and down nearby, I had a sudden flashback to more challenging times.
And what brought this about? Well, the fact that I was buttering my teacake with a knife.
YES, AN ACTUAL KNIFE!
Rewind twelve months, maybe even more than that. The fug of motherhood and my total denial of having a 20-month-old child means my recollection of dates is hazy at best. Elliott and I used to attend Baby Sensory classes at a nearby Tesco. This Tesco houses an in-house Costa cafe and so Elliott and I would regularly get there early so he could have some milk and mama could have a well-deserved sweet treat and a coffee (or a sandwich if I was feeling in a more sensible mood). Sometimes we would meet up with other mamas and little ones for a pre-class catch up. A chance for mama to eat, drink and socialise – woo hoo!
Well, yes, it was woo hoo. Although sometimes it was also a bit boo too. Sometimes it was just such hard work that I wondered if it was even worth it. Getting myself and baby ready and out of the house, driving to Tesco, praying there was a decent car parking space, trying not to wake Elliott as I snapped the Maxi-Cosi out of the car and onto his Silver Cross travel system base, inevitably needing the loo as soon as I got there (despite going just before I left the house – do those pelvic floor exercises ladies), crashing the buggy into tables and chairs as I manoeuvred around Costa, worrying that the sleep deprivation was going to mean I asked for something wholly inappropriate instead of a latte (I once asked for a Pornish Casty in Greggs!!!) and then, having found a table where I could park the buggy without pissing too many non-mummy people off, I would relax. Momentarily. Of course, that would be when Elliott would rouse from his silent slumber and demand a feed which would coincide with the arrival of my toasted tea cake (hey, I’m a creature of habit, alright!). I would be trying to soothe a crying baby, make up a formula bottle and thank the Costa lady for delivering my food all at the same time. I became a dab hand at popping Elliott on my lap and feeding him his bottle with one hand whilst I used the butter wrapper to butter my tea cake! I got through it and I was proud of my quick-thinking and ingenuity. But some days it was just bloomin’ hard work.
From the moment Elliott was born people would always say ‘It gets easier’. You spend most of the first year wondering WHEN? But just sat in Costa the other day buttering my toasted tea cake with a knife before offering Elliott a bite, I realised it had.
This post is in no way endorsed by Costa. But if they do want to sponsor me, that’s absolutely fine – I still spend half of my salary on parent juice to keep me awake!
By the way, although those early days were chaos. I still blooming miss them!