The Loop

I stand at the bottom of the slide waiting for her to come down. I'm greeted with squeals of delight and giggles at this new found freedom that walking brings. I look across at her brothers and check they are all OK. They're growing up fast, it's scary, I remember them as little tiny boys, singing them to sleep, reading them tales, making up stories.

Where did time go?

These little people have been part of my life for 7 years now.

My daydreams and wanderings are interrupted by a mother. She's talking about shoes to me. And child development. And kids food.  Another mother injects too. I play along. Don't admit that these three sandy haired little ones aren't mine.

I realise then. That as they've grown, so have I. I'm no longer clearly just the baby sitter. I am old enough to be a mummy to these little ones. They could be mine.

I continue the conversation, basking in it's equality. Rejoicing in the fact that I've had enough kiddos in my care that I know enough to pass myself about walking and growth and the price of shoes. I know about the snacks they eat. I love it. I long for the day when a little one calls me mummy and this is my reality. I mean I don't want to constantly talk of babies and children. But I love being treated like an adult. I love not feeling out of the loop.

However when people know the truth, the reality is so different.

I sit in creche. The only childless helper there.

And no-one speaks to me. Other than the children. The whole entire hour.

Except when one kid needs their nappy changed.

And the mothers are flabbergasted I can do it.

Quickly.

With one hand.

Then they return to talking to each other about  walking and growth and the price of shoes. About the snacks kids like to eat.

And no one asks my thoughts.

Because after all I've never had a child. So what would I know?

And I hate the Mummy chat. Because I'm out of the loop. And I long for the day when a little one calls me mummy and in reality I can participate.

But then I think of the girl like me. Sitting in the creche. With empty arms and an empty womb.

And I never ever want to make her pain feel worse.

So I look forward to the day when a little one calls me mummy and I turn around and talk about something other than  walking and growth and the price of shoes. About the snacks kids like to eat.


I ask her how she is. How her week was. How her husband is. And I ask her if maybe she'd like to come over and look after my little ones. So that she can feel included and be treated like an adult. To not feel so isolated when it seems like the rest of the world is talking of walking and growth and the price of shoes. About the snacks kids like to eat.