I had to chuckle when I read new mum Victoria Farncombe’s blog about the cheek burning embarassment at being caught in a trendy clothes shop with her nipples leaking milk.
She asked the question: Can you imagine anything more embarrassing?
Oh yes yes yes! My advice to you Victoria is get used to cringing in the corner because the embarassment factor will crank up at an alarming rate.
They are the sort of moments that make you want to turn to drink/stone or just turn and run away.
Nipple leakage? That’s just a start.
How about a Savoy cabbage leaf popping out of your bra at a posh spa (all white coats, minimal decor and scented candles)? I like to think the tall, willowy, twentynothing assistant could recognise a breastfeeding mum suffering at the hands of a particularly hungry baby, but the look on her horrified face said otherwise.
Or how about when your two-year-old is violently sick in the children’s aisle of Wilkinsons – all over his pushchair, clothes, floor and, mortifyingly, the display of books nearby. You can actually feel the red hot burn of disapproval from shoppers boring in to your neck as you’re down there on your hands and knees trying to mop it up with the scrap of tissue you managed to find at the bottom of your changing bag.
And don’t get me started on when they can talk.
Walking hand in hand with Dan around Ikea behind a particularly large gentleman he stage whispers to me: “That man is so fat”. Of course, what it actually came out as was “THAT MAN IS SO FAT”
While sat round a camp fire with new friends, Dan is clearly bored with the conversation as it doesn’t involve Ben 10/chocolate/him so randomly declares to all: “My mummy has two bottoms”
Then, just when you think it can’t possibly get any worse, you start to potty train them.
Ah leaky nipples, those were the days . . .