We are now just hours away from the next phase in the lockdown lifting roadmap. I am thrilled yet tentative.
The last few weeks have felt like another life. I’ve embraced the changes and made every plan logistically possible. My diary hasn’t been this full since, well 2019.
Baby classes, lunches, numerous coffees and various appointments, my world is finally starting to feel like a colourful one again. I am slowly coming back to life and actually enjoying my existence.
We’ve been for picnics by the river, had a day on the beach and watched Maia go up and down an inflatable slide in Henley. I hadn’t seen her smile so much all year.
Instead of just “what shall we eat” and “when shall we go for our walk-that-no-one-really-wants-to-go-on-but-what-else-is-there” it’s been:
“Can we do the 15th? Julie is having a barbecue.”
“I’m booking a hair appointment can you have the children that morning?”
“WHERE do you want to go for your Birthday meal?”
We have things to look forward to, people to see and food not cooked by us, to eat. There is excitement in the air again.
I knew lockdown life was draining, but I didn’t realise just how much I missed social interaction until I went for lunch with a new friend and her baby boy of a similar age to Leo. We chatted births and babies whilst wolfing down our burgers and sweet potato fries. (If you don’t eat fast with a baby, you don’t eat at all).
It felt good to connect with another Mum face-to-face. I’d forgotten how necessary and important it was. I came away feeling refreshed and energised, buzzing from the entire experience.
I both love and detest humans in equal measure for obvious reasons, but recently I have become increasingly grateful for the simple acts of listening to, and being listened to by, another person. Preferably over food.
The same notion goes for baby classes, which are like a twice-weekly ray of sunshine. They’re not every Mum’s cup of tea, but I always leave smiling.
The lights, the music, the happy, enthusiastic and animated class-leader, what’s not to love?
It’s 45 minutes of focused-baby-time where I’m not putting laundry away, tidying toys or driving along to the soundtrack of a tiny screaming human. If anything it’s an escape.
Plus at the moment we’re sat on mats and socially distanced, so there’s no real pressure to actually talk to anyone if you don’t want to.
I do recall, back in pre-historic-pre-covid times, sitting in a circle in classes with Maia, pretty much toe-to-toe with other Mums, making it tricky not to strike up a conversation.
Of course I have convinced myself, spurred on by Joel, that I will start my own baby class one day.
It will be called The Colourful Kind (or something equally spritely) after my beloved blog, and it will be just that, colourful.
All the usual music and props plus performances by yours truly.
It will be nothing if not unique and I hope to spend the next few years working on this lucrative business venture. Stay tuned.
I am proud to say Joel took Leo to his Baby Sensory class last week.
“I’ll be the only Dad, won’t I?”
“Yes, yes you will, but it will be worth it because you’ll love it.”
He reported back that it was just as magical as I’d claimed and that he was shy at first, to do all the hand movements and signing, but it didn’t take long before he felt he could lead a class.
Perhaps I’ll rope him into my rainbow class vision.
