Park life

My social inadequacy and loneliness was highlighted once again today. Yesterday we didn't venture out, no fresh air at all. When the rain stopped this morning I knew we had to get out, even if just for a short walk. With no money to fritter away, the shops were out of the question and I plumped for Allesley Park. There are swings there and I wondered if Tilly would be big enough to fit in them yet.

It has been a dismal morning with dark heavy clouds full of rain but it has perked up a little. It wasn't until I was in the park, entering the play area that I realised quite how much it had perked up, to 23 degrees. I was wearing a thick heavy fleece and Tilly was in a long sleeved vest, dress and thick tights - luckily I had removed her coat when I got her out of the car. We both looked terribly overdressed - everyone else was in their thinnest summer garb, short t-shirts and vests - we already looked conspicuous. The play park was full, full of mums who stared as I walked towards the swings. My mind was telling me to turn around and leave but that look conspicuous, I had to keep going. Seeing the mums made me think, it reinforced my loneliness as they sat there in their groups chatting in the sun, there were just like mobile mother and toddler groups; complete with stares, cliques and probably plenty of underlying competition for whose child is better behaved, walking, talking, dressed etc. I wandered over to the swings, I didn't want to put Tilly in it she was clearly too small but the was exit behind me I couldn't turn around and walk straight back. So I got Tilly out of the pram and awkwardly looked around, she was fascinated by the children running around and laughing. I found a board on a spring that wobbled and sat on it with her on my knee, she laughed and with that, sweat from the unexpected heat of the day running down my back I decided to move on. I'd had played on something so it wouldn't look that odd leaving so soon now would it? Probably. So I popped Tilly back in the pram and made a swift exit. I felt like a complete idiot. What mother walks into a play park gets their baby out for a few seconds to awkwardly sit on the springy thing (there was a reason why it wasn't being played on by any of the children, it was rubbish) and then leave. The same mother who has dressed both herself and her baby in winter attire while others around are practically sunbathing. That stupid mother is me. I walked off hoping that no one had noticed by little adventure, chastising myself under my breath for being both socially inadequate and shy, the awful shyness demonstrated by my embarrassing behaviour.

Relieved to get out of the play park, the fresh air filled my lungs and the combination of it and the heat I got very sleepy. I yawned my way around to the other side, passing several people along the way, all remarked on my sleepiness and all wittily suggested Tilly should be pushing me. Very funny . . . no hilarious. I gave a false smile back, I wasn't in the mood for stranger humour.

I stopped to feed Tilly on a bench in the shade and finally removed all of our excessive winter clothes. She was continually distracted and amazed by children on bikes, dogs and passers by.
As I sat winding her, I stroked the sole of her foot, totally unblemished and pure. It felt like a smooth polished pebble, the hardness of her bones protected by a lovely layer of baby fat.
I watched a man walking his dog lean down with a plastic bag to pick up his dog's poo. My recent encounters with Tilly's poo and the varying consistencies have both amazed, fascinated and repulsed me, but they are something only a mother (and father) can cope with. She is my baby, she is helpless, she needs me to clean it up and I am thankful that one day she will learn to do it by herself. A dog is not your own flesh and blood and will never learn to do it themselves - I'm glad we have a cat!

On the way back I was still pondering my failings and feeling sorry for myself then suddenly it all disappeared, on the side of the path was a hedgehog, a big one, totally still. I stopped the pram and excitedly like a child exclaimed at the top of my voice 'Look! A hedgehog!' (I'd have probably done this anyway, but thankfully it is less weird when you have a baby to talk to!). I watched intently as it slowly walked ahead of us, each time I moved the pram it stopped. I waited as it crossed the path in front of us. A man with a big dog approached, the dog had spotted it and started to pull at their lead and was barking like mad. I'd got Tilly out of the pram and she watched the big dog, I wasn't sure if she'd be able to see the hedgehog but as it moved it caught her eye and she watched as it hurried across the grass into the bushes. I wanted to tell everyone in the park what I'd seen so that they could see it too, seeing it had cheered me up a lot, I'm still such a big kid myself.

When I got back, Tilly took ages to get to sleep. She excitedly kicked about in her cot for nearly 30 minutes. Each time I tried to get her to sleep she grinned at me, a grin big enough for her dummy to drop out each time. I calmly said no, trying to close my eyes so she'd copy me and fall asleep. She grinned at me again followed by giggling, I tried so hard to keep a straight face and continue to be serious but after the third small giggle I could feel the corners of my mouth starting to twitch and then I laughed. It is going to be so hard when she is naughty to stay serious when I discipline her, if she smiles or giggles like that I know I'll crack.