Having avoided public transport and the hubbub of London for the past 4 months, the time had finally come last Friday for Iris to discover the world outside East Dulwich.
Slightly dazed from a night of sleeplessness spent foreseeing the many beartraps awaiting us, I got us ready.
New dress for Iris, new top for Mummy - check;
New 'about town' buggy for Iris - check;
New, more urban, changing bag for Mummy - check;
This was turning out to be an expensive adventure.
Our first date with the real world was at the Ritzy in Brixton for a nice soothing knit flicks session. As it happened, the Bourne Ultimatum at full volume may not have been the best choice. On the plus side, I actually got there on time; it was so loud the babies' wailing was reduced to a pitiful mime; hubby was VERY jealous.
On the downside, no breakfast and crucial cinematic moments missed due to wiping Iris' biggest poo ever off her, me and the seat (err, second row middle-ish in case you're wondering, and sorry if you didn't read this in time!).
Soothing session over, we attempted a trial run on the escalators at the Department store over the road, in search of a much deserved caffeine fix. Important lesson in not travelling up escalators backwards learnt, and also that Iris isn't keen on Cafe Nero.
At this point I'm feeling like the woman from the Sure ad, only without the Sure. My promise to visit hubby's work place in Euston now feels like a mad hormonal gesture. Nonetheless, my NCT pals see me onto the underground lift and we're off again. Having learnt not to travel UP the escalators backwards, I try out my luck going down. I now know anything backwards is definitely a bad idea. Several vertiginous and sweaty minutes later we're on the tube and off to Euston.
And actually it's not that bad - once familiar stations flash by while Iris snoozes and I try and remember what it was like to be carefree.
Before long we are at my husband's work reception. By now Iris and I are somewhat dishevelled, smelly, overtired and hungry. But we made it, and that makes me strangely proud. Our urban debut now over, my husband beams as he introduces our daughter to his workmates, and I realise what a privilege it is to be her mother and his wife.
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8 comments:
Poo, coffee, beaming husband. Sounds like a fine old time. And an achievement on your part.
Ahh, brilliant. I sometimes think I'm the only female to adore her husband. Mind you most people seem to adore him, it's very odd!
We took our ten month old daughter on a 24 hour flight to Oz and everyone thought we were clearly nuts, but it was fine, it's just getting the courage to get out there and do it.
Brilliant. London, Tube, escalators and small baby is a horrible mix. You did amazingly well, and still made it to Euston! I am slightly envious that you look like the woman in the Sure advert, with or without the Sure.
Pigx
Lovely posting. Takes me back to exactly those feelings, the terror, tiredness and love.
How on earth did you go on an ecalator with a pushchair? If there is some secret skill I must know as i've been trying to work it out for years!
You're right to be proud. Well done. I remember feeling just the same (about 100 years ago when my enormous hulking son who now towers over me was tiny)when I managed to make it out the house, for brief sortie, and back again. In one piece. Well two really. But you know what I mean.
Sounds exhausting! Bet you both slept well...
Love the blog and would love to swap links... (info@sheerluxe.com)
Hi Georgie - had a peek at your website, it looks great. I shall add your link forthwith!
x
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