August is supposed to be hot. But after stepping out of the cinema and nearly being blown away by arctic gusts, we hastily retreated into the nearest big chain coffee shop for a hot drink to warm up.
I don’t drink coffee so I’ve never been one to visit frequently but increasingly in the past few years I have wanted to avoid them like the plague. Why you ask? As it has become the yummy mummy brigades new place to congregate with their super skinny zero calorie diet busting mocha choca lattes yaya or whatever they’re called and their precious immaculately dressed new offspring.
There was about 9 of them yesterday sat slap bang in the middle of the shop. All with their designer brand spanking new buggies and the ‘must have changing bag’ that some parenting magazine told them they MUST buy otherwise they will traumatise their child and they will grow up hating them. All sipping their drinks and nodding animatedly at their new BFFs.
But seriously now – why is it that they ALWAYS meet in the “trendy” coffee shops?! I suppose we have ‘Friends’ to thank for that but that started 20 years (I know, I know. I feel old too) ago but is still where the trendy folk go for their caffeine burst.
Now I may sound a tad catty labelling them but to their defence, half of them look slightly bedraggled with their greasy hair scraped back and stifling yawns whilst the true yummy mummy wannabes sat with a face full of slap, extreme skinny jeans and no hint of their mum tums despite their baby looking like it’s just popped out of the womb. It was interesting to see that there was already two camps forming. Slummy vs Yummy – sat at opposite ends of the tables. I know which end I would have been sat (forced) at with my wind swept hair and smear of mascara dragged across my lids.
However, seeing them all sat there brought back memories of the days of just having one child. When you could actually sit with a newborn and actually drink and talk without having to keep the eldest entertained whilst trying to simultaneously stop one twin climbing under the table while the other is performing a Usain Bolt style sprint to the door, yes I mean you P2. Where you could sit and put on make up and do your hair whilst your child hopefully napped as you didn’t have to entertain anyone else. Just watch This Morning and plan how to get out the house.
I suppose I looked at that group and had a little chuckle to myself. I would have loved to go over to them (but never ever actually would – it’s far easier to be smug and write a blog post about it. I’m so 2014 darling. And British.) and tell them that it’s easy to give a sly dirty look as one of my children lets out an ear piercing scream as I won’t buy them a triple choc chip muffin, but one day THIS WILL BE YOUR LIFE! (No red books here I’m afraid)
The days of watching your maternity leave slip away surrounded by your NCT chums and drinking your coffee hot will soon be replaced by chaotic toddlers wanting to explore everything. (And I mean everything) and screaming will become the complete and utter norm. Silence isn’t golden. It’s mischief.
Mrs YM, if you choose to have more kids – you can kiss these type of mommy meet ups goodbye. (Did you not see how my children behaved!) Your social life will become refereeing at soft play and hoping there’s a bar at kids parties so you can have a sneaky sob in the corner to your true best mates – the ones who come to your house with sick down their shoulders and their house looks like it’s been burgled just like yours.
So to you snooty coffee shop Mama – as you place you bundle of joy into the super duper new buggy and give one last sarky smile as you’ve got your one child off to sleep and your hair doesn’t resemble a dodgy birds nest – please remember – these perfect smug coffee dates will one day descend into chaos. I know. I’ve been there!!
Yep Mrs Birds Nest herself too was annoyingly back in my jeans within a few weeks after having my first. I would go to soft play when he was smaller and look aghast at the kids running around like complete loons and eating crisps and swigging fruit shoots whilst their haggard greying parents looked on frazzled. I vowed there and then that my child would never be like that and he would only eat organic food and drink water. YEAH RIGHT! Wait til they start going to kids parties at school – healthy what?
So you see – I’m not digging out the coffee shop brigade. I’m just hoping that in 12 months time (and then for the foreseeable next few decades) when their tiny sleepy babies become rampaging monsters that make noise, dribble, shout, scream and certainly don’t sit nicely as you swap nappy poo stories with your friends; then maybe you’ll throw me mutual “help!” vibes across the room instead of filthy looks. We are all in this together – it’s just I know what’s coming!!
Disclaimer – I had a hot chocolate. It was nice. And I’m sure the Yummy Mummies were nice really. Even the one who looked a size zero with amazing knee boots. I think I was just a bit jealous. And massively PMT fuelled.