The Social Dimensions of Parenting

ellie - 29 Nov 16

At the time, these things were trying; a year on, I find them funny and I would like to share them:

1. Getting my boobs out in odd places.

I needed an eye test and I thought it would be exceedingly clever to have this done when my daughter was due to nap. I would take her to Specsavers where (of course) she would sleep beautifully in her pram, leaving me to squint my way through the test, blissfully uninterrupted. She had napped at that time for days now, so surely this would work.

No. A landslide of loud, snotty sobs emanated from her tiny frame, whilst she desperately nuzzled into me. So as the kind optician stood poised with her gadget, there was only one thing I could do; expose the boob. Of course, she really was rather lovely. But this was clearly not a regular day at work for her.

Another odd place – work. I was adamant I would continue to breastfeed my daughter after my return to work, so I needed to express milk. I work on a very busy hospital ward where there are limited places to pump; one option was to pop into our treatment room, when it was free.

I did not know that my colleague has to perform daily exercises for her bad back, until she interrupted the mooing cow-like noises of my breast pump by shouting through the door that she needed to come in to perform said exercises. I have to make it clear she was very polite about this; she only had to shout as my breast-pump device was rather loud. She was another one who was really rather good about it; she did not mind that the only thing separating the laborious whirring boob cone and her Stephen Hawking-voiced exercise app was a flimsy hospital curtain.

I would like you to imagine:

[A monotonous electronic voice]: ‘Come on, only four more reps to go’

[deep mechanical noises mingle with sounds of dripping liquid]

[The computerized voice returns] ‘well done’

I wonder who deserves this ‘well done’ – me? Or my forward-folding colleague?

2. Encountering ‘bizzarrity’.

Yes, I have made up a word there. It’s sort of a mixture of ‘bizarre’ and ‘hilarity’ (rather tenuous, I know).

I always understood that people who make discriminatory statements serve only to reveal more about themselves than the person they are criticising; but I never connected with this fully until I witnessed the following bizzarrity…

When I was telling a fellow mum, at a toddler group, about how my daughter is a little tomboy, she looked a little bit worried. I thought that was a bit strange and just kept on talking anyway (I was desperate for that adult conversation!). When I said my daughter mainly runs around with one little boy at nursery, she interrupted me to exclaim (with marked relief):

‘Oh! Phew! Well, at least you know now she is not gay!’

This was not what I was expecting, and I am relieved to say I was able to answer in a way that was kind. I told her (nicely) that I would be thrilled if my daughter came out as gay, as it would show she is brave, in touch with her true self and trusts me. She looked a little bit sheepish at this point and I was thrilled to feel that I was genuinely not annoyed with this lady – is this what happens when you become a mum? You no longer care about other people’s bizzarrity? Perhaps I am just too tired to get angry.

Literally minutes later, I encountered further bizzarrity. A lady asked me how old my daughter was, and how much she weighed. This is quite a standard question – it was looking rather promising that this was going to be a bizzarrity-free conversation!

When I shared that my daughter is tiny, she looked a little pre-occupied with worry. She grabbed her granddaughter and heaved her little cherub frame upwards (I felt she was over-egging this a bit; the toddler was a normal, healthy size). Then, she leaned towards me, and with the same conspiratorial tone one uses to slag off a relative at Christmas dinner, she whispered ‘well, I rather think this one could do with losing a bit of weight’.

I have to admit, I shut down after hearing that one. This comment had no basis on reality – the poor kid was clearly going to contend with a warped body-image. Who knew that in the midst of cute, chubby faces and clattering toys I would meet homophobia and body fascism. Fortunately, I do see the comedy in this bizarre juxtaposition.

I hope you liked these and I suspect I may share more.

ellie

I am Ellie Perrins. I live in Warwickshire, and I am a proud mum to my one- year-old daughter, Rosie. Both my husband and I would like another child and I suspect we are mad. I work part-time as a nurse on a very busy hospital ward. It's ok, but I find it tough at times. I would love a pet, but I do not have one. (how do people do it? Walking a dog whilst pushing a buggy and dealing with your older children?! You are amazing). I absolutely love practicing yoga. I used to think it was fake exercise solely practiced by the elderly, but my teacher is wonderfully mean and I feel quite bendy and strong at the moment. I like, when I am out and about, to give a wink of solidarity to other mums, especially if their child/ren are tantrumming.

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