Tag Archives: cake

New Town New Playgroup

14 Sep

HI!

It’s been a long time, for those that know me, poor you, will know why and those that don’t, count yourself lucky!  This blog is not about my tales of woes, its too long and boring and you would probably need to go to counselling afterwards.  No seriously this blog is exactly what it says on the tin, I’m a bit rusty but here goes….

We’ve been lucky enough to be moved to a lovely house in a lovely area, the type of area where you google earth it and see your little house surrounded by mansions that have epic swimming pools in their grounds, shit.  They have to let their guard down occasionally and let the riff raff move in to show they are doing their bit ‘for the community’.  As wonderful as this sounds theres no school place for Ryan (4, star of previous blogs), AKA they cant afford the 12:1 staff ratio for him, no that’s unfair he’s improved it’s only 10:1 now for his daily dramas.  There also isn’t a nursery place for the screaming dolly, Lexi (2, no doubt star of future blogs).

I decide to make myself known on the mummy circuit and try to make local friends, they have to speak to me first but that’s only a small detail, I will fit in I have a pair of uggs and converse surely that’s the golden ticket into the clique.   I scour facebook and find the group that I will inflict myself and my zoo upon, it’s quite apt as its called monkeys, great they must be aware of naughty children that you can’t blatantly call sods so you pat them on the head and call them monkeys instead, yay!

I arrived and join the queue to pay my mortgage admission fee, Ryan instantly darts off his location unknown until I hear a screaming child, Lexi is clinging to me like a baby monkey and refusing to give me the dummy that is vacuum suctioned into her mouth, mummy sin number 1.  I pay and I’m in, I feel like a virgin at a strip club.  I walk around trying to find a place to drop my carefully packed bag, I packed this bag with everything and for every eventuality to make me look organised and like a good mum, I cant carry the thing buts its all gravy.

I find my spot and look around smiling like a maniac in the hope of catching someone’s eye.  I need to ask if you have to pay for coffee but not sure if that would make me an outcast, i literally brought the admission fee and that was it.  I pick my way through the throngs of children and yummy mummies and reach the counter.  This one heck of a posh playgroup, they do filter coffee from a cafetiere and they have homemade cake, and individual bowls of cucumber and banana for the kids.  I try not to speak as my cockney accent always lowers the tone I also have tattoos which instantly makes everyone clasp their designer bags tighter than their  own children.

I get the coffee and retreat back to my camp.  I begin to survey the group and notice what everyone is wearing, there’s groups, I notice, some women are still power dressing, maybe lusting after their once successful career before their wombs twitched them into submission, some are dressed like mother earth all paisley and flowy, you can imagine them going home and digging up their dinner from their gardens, there’s the jeans and converse mummies, oh I look like one of them except my roots make my clean hair look like it hasn’t been washed for a month, oh well onwards and upwards.  Lexi begins to bitch slap an innocent looking nicely dressed little girl and I take that as my cue to begin a conversation…WRONG.  Move on to next victim except there’s no one on their own and I’m not approaching a group its like putting your hand in a nest of vipers.

I look at the toys and notice that every one of them had batteries in them that worked, this is posh, mega posh, my kids toys haven’t seen batteries since they were shipped out of Taiwan.  Lexi falls upon this dolly in a pushchair like she has never seen anything like it, cue super bitch top dawg mummy….”oh doesn’t she have a dolly? every girl needs a dolly, such a shame” and then walks off.  This woman is immaculate she must have a team that dresses her, she honestly pitched up to playgroup in a twin set, hair in a gorgeous bun type thing, make up is flawless.  My make up routine stretches to slapping some oil of ulay on my face in the hope it will harden and cement up the wrinkles.

I notice that there are lots of newborns and expecting ladies, oh my gosh I need those horse blinker things before my womb begins to twitch, I have just completed a degree I need to now complete an application form and complete at least one month of work before I can contemplate babies again- sorry husband I know we had “the talk” but I suddenly developed partial deafness at that time and must have mistook what you said :).

The playgroup is in a church hall, but this isn’t some ramshackle old hall, it’s a super hall, designed by architects, it has a dishwasher and eco friendly things.  It had a lovely little garden that backs onto a graveyard, I aimlessly wonder out there to try and spot at least one of my children and something catches my eye, it’s a bright yellow blob and it looks like its poledancing on a big cross thing in the graveyard, please god no, please tell me I didnt dress Ryan in yellow…..oh heck I did.  I did an olympic style sprint and hurdle over the fence and dragged Ryan back through the fence before he began to earn any money and plonked him in a wendy house, I calmly walk away smiling and rolling my eyes “kids hey” when all of the sudden Ryan remembers the rude naughty word he likes to use and leans out of the window and yells out that I’m an “effing punk”, ground please open and swallow me now!!  I’m ashamed to say I ran off and hid in the toilet and looked on facebook for a bit.

The rest of the time went reasonably ok and I managed to find some poor lady to speak to me and I’m pretty sure she wont be coming back in case she runs into me.

Oh and the ONE question I wanted somebody to ask me to check my status in life and the only time I have a pretty impressive answer no body does.  “what do you do?” I wanted to tell them what I am about to do so I could watch them shove it up their range rover pipe and smoke it but no one did, oh well a good excuse for next week.

Much Love x