Had a very traumatic park
experience. Everything environment-wise was set up perfectly for your
stereotypical baby walk. The sun was shining…. The park was beckoning, the pram
was set up ready to go… the baby seemed happy and winding down for a
much-needed nap.
Put baby in pram.
Leave the house.
Reach end of road.
Small cry.
That’s ok… it’s just a
‘settling down’ grizzle. Sometimes happens. We’re good.
Reach park.
Small cry continues.
Becomes large cry.
Fucking brilliant.
Start receiving judgmental
looks from non-parent people walking past. I can literally SEE their thoughts.
‘Are you sure your baby’s alright?’… ‘Shouldn’t you be attending to your
baby?’… ‘Oh dear, that’s not a happy baby.. poor parenting.’ I know these
thoughts, because I used to be those people.
Now I have one of my very own
squirming noise-pots, I know the truth.
So now… sure… the sun is
shining, the toddler playground is heaving, I’ve got my Toms on and there are
dads playing football with their sons. But we have now reached FEWM (Full
Emergency Walk Mode).
Pull down secret extra
section of pram hood to protect baby’s delicate eyes from sunshine. (Actually
to try and drown out the cries to make myself look like a better parent). Baby
cries louder. Good.
Have forgotten emergency
dummy. Specifically remember thinking just before we left the house that we
didn’t need it, because The Baby has only seriously cried in the pram a couple
of times before. That’s what happens you see. If you get cocky… the baby KNOWS.
Out comes the Womb Noise App.
Place volume on 100 and place next to baby’s head in pram. That’s right. I’m a
walking womb. To the people around me (and there are many), I am taking a
screaming womb out for a walk.
The Baby likes rough terrain.
The current path situation is not rough enough. Veer slightly to the right so
that the 2 right wheels are on the grass. Nice and rocky. Good. So to recap… at
this stage, I am walking a screaming womb, half on the path and half on the
grass. To the common park-public, I look like I have a serious vision and
spatial awareness problem. Apart from when there are some tree roots breaking
through the path, then I steer over those for optimum bumpiness.
Baby still at Loud Scream
State.
Womb noises cease. Phone has
run out of battery. Fucking brilliant.
I am now about to pass 2 x
model mums with their babies. I mean, they are literally Rosie
Huntingdon-Whiteley and Miranda Kerr. HOW DO THEY DO THAT. I have crusty skin
falling off my nose as residue from my recent cold, my hair is fluffy due to
having to downgrade shampoo and conditioner to Herbal Essences and my thighs
are still the size of large oak tree trunks 5 months in. They are leaner than
the reduced fat mince from Co-op, have a beautifully even sunkissed glow and
one of them is wearing a crop top. A CROP TOP. WT actual F. And guess what…
their babies are gurgling and cooing with unconditional joy. Don’t even have
the energy to try and smile. Just sneer. Bastards.
Still at Loud Cry State.
Start to go through list of
other potential problems:
- · Baby was only fed a short while ago.
- · Baby only did a poop a short while ago.
- · Baby has appropriate warmness.
Maybe The Baby is hungry again,
because this is very unusual. Still a fair distance from home, so going to have
to address this now. Great. Public Boob Anxiety sweats begin.
Find the most secluded bench
I can. Remove Baby from pram. Crying ceases. Progress. Following James Bond-esque
scout for any other people, subtly attach baby to boob.
After approximately 1x
second, baby detaches very dramatically to stare hypnotically at a tree.
Boob dangerously exposed.
Ever so gently (or not) push
Baby’s head back towards boob and gently whisper ‘just have some fucking milk’.
Baby has more milk. Things
are going well. Runner approaching. Runner looks very much like Hulk Hogan.
Look at Hulk quite intensely to see if he is the real Hulk. Look so intensely,
that have not realized Baby has detached and is staring open mouthed at the
tree.
NIPPLE EXPOSED!
NIPPLE EXPOSED TO HULK HOGAN!
And because I’m looking so
intensely at him, he is of course looking back at me. And my nipple.
I feel like I’ve been nipple
raped.
Very quickly pack away boob,
replace baby in pram and continue walking.
Crying resumes. Excellent.
Head down. Power home. Reach
safety of dining room. Open pram. Baby ceases crying, looks up and literally
laughs in my face.
FML.
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