Today I braved the train. With the beans. On my own. My sister, who still lives in Southampton, wanted to visit for the day and suggested a shopping trip in Cardiff.
I didn’t want the beans to sleep on the drive home so figured I’d try the train. It was a day of firsts, with the first first being the train.
Bean#1 loved it. She sat in the pram with a Tupperware of dried cheerio’s and simply stared out the window in pure fascination. Bean#2 copied her sister for the first 10 minutes, then she decided she wanted ‘uppy’. She would not stop screaming ‘uppy’ at me so I caved. I got her ‘uppy’ and sat her on my knee.
This is always a concern when you have two beans. If I get one out, will the other want out? If one wakes up, will the other wake up? If one gets the shits, will the other get the shits? Normally, the answer is simply ‘yes’. But in this case, as rare as it is to see me turn down a sandwich, Bean#1 remained content in the pram.
Bean#2 however, did not remain content with her ‘uppy’ situation. She now wanted to get down and stroll around the train carriage like she owns the joint.
So much of me cringes when they scream in public and when I have to result to cheesy puffs or a chocolate finger to shut them up, but today I thought…fuck it. I was going to enjoy this day of firsts. We were going to have a joyful smiley day.
I let Bean#2 get down. She fell over when the train jerked. She’s double fucking hard so she got back up. People in the carriage, well mainly your old dears, were rolling their eyes and shaking their blue rinsed heads disapprovingly.
Yup. What a bad mother I am. My toddler wants to get out, I explain why she can’t, she’s a toddler so has no fucking clue what I’m saying, so I let her learn. I get her out, she falls over, I’m all smug thinking ‘Ha, told you so’ but she gets up and carries on her merry way.
I can have a really bad habit of stressing about the small stuff and not enjoying the more important stuff. So what that people on the train could see that I let my daughter fall over, she got straight back up again cos she’s nails. Who gives a fuck if when they screamed on the train back I let them have a whole bag of cheesy puffs each so they’d shut up.
If pricks out there think they can do a better job of parenting than me, then stick to parenting and stop judging. I don’t think the odd bag of cheesy puffs or fall over on the train is going to make them insecure paranoid knob heads that don’t move out until they’re 45.
I loved my day in Cardiff. Every minute of firsts made my heart swell with absolute pride. I’m not going to let the judgemental head shakes stop me from trying these firsts. My beans are tough, I’m gonna follow their lead.