There’s a storyline on F.R.I.E.N.D.S in which Ross has to do a crazy mad dash from one side of town to the other to teach. He runs there and has enough time to introduce himself, then faints. I was Ross the other day. It started off really organised – I was up early to get everything packed and get myself ready. Then I would get the child ready and off we would go in the pram for a brisk but pleasant 25 minute walk to class. Easy peasy. Except the child woke up and breastfed for ages and ages and ages and ages. At precisely 10 minutes before class started they said “Ready!” as in ready for class. Hurrrrr…..
I got us out the door and down the street. I was speed walking so hard whilst pushing that pram (THANK GOODNESS they were happy to sit in it) my hips were swinging side to side like I might get an Olympic medal out of the thing. Finally we were rushing down the last street which was slightly uphill and very long and very interesting for the child kept seeing things to point out to me. And wanted my comments on it too.
“Mama! BIRD! Mama?“
“Urghhhh!” I panted.
“Burghhhhhhddddd!” I agreed.
But they wanted me to elaborate more on it.
“Burghhhhhd! … Flaiiiiiiiii! Yes… yes… urghhhh”
I thought it was about time to find out if these Baby Joggers can be jogged with. So I very ungracefully loped and pushed the pram down the lane until we got to the sports class. This was thrilling and refreshing for the child. I could see her enjoying the breeze buffeting into their face as I huffed along. I paused outside the sports hall long enough for me to clutch at my chest to get my breath back, covertly sniff my armpits (still ok, phew!), pat my frizz down and then walk us into the last ten minutes of class on legs that felt like stilts.
As the child pranced about the class very happy to be there, I tried to stop my knees from knocking together. I was just happy to still be upright and there before the bell.
Also, by the way, the Babyjogger jogs fine. Me, not so much. (Not sponsored, obviously.)
So, how have you been?