I’m a bit scared. After over three years of being a mum, tomorrow I am going to my first playgroup. I’m not the most sociable person in the world anyway and when E was a baby I was entirely too overwhelmed by the idea of trying to look after him in an unknown environment at the same time as making small talk with lots of women I didn’t know, who would all be coping so much better than me, that I never went to one. I knew E would be starting nursery before his first birthday when I went back to work so he wasn’t going to be short of interaction with other kids so why put myself through it I thought. Looking back I realise I should have just pulled myself together and gone and I probably would have met some nice people and had a lovely time. Well, you live and learn!
T will be starting nursery at Christmas when I start work again and they have playgroup for under ones once a week. I’m hoping going in the meantime will mean he’s familiar with the environment before I have to leave him there and this will help avoid the traumatic scenes we had with E when he first started. Sounds sensible, yes?
But now Hubs has told them I’m coming when he dropped E off yesterday so I’m actually going to have to go. Cue anxiety. They’re going to be those yummy mummies I was talking about last week, aren’t they? Their babies will be all cute and smiley, won’t they? They will have lost all their baby weight, won’t they? This is going to be the most uncomfortable 90 minutes of my life, isn’t it? Oh god, what am I doing?