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On motherhood and...Pressing the button


There is a button, introduced to me by my friend Simon, which I use more and more the deeper I get into maternity leave. It is not a real button, it’s a metaphorical one, but I still imagine it as big and red, and making a satisfying ‘thunk’ when activated. This is the charmingly-named ‘fuck it’ button, and you use it to keep yourself sane. For example…
Scenario 1: The door bell rings. You pick the baby up. The baby suddenly does a poo of such velocity that it miraculously leaps from her nappy and down her leg, from whence it travels all down your boob and also your leg and, somehow, a bit of your hair.
When to activate the button: You’re still going to have to answer the door, so you press the button and use the baby as a human shield to cover up both her and your own pooey state. This exacerbates the clean up operation no end, but at least you look clean when you open the door to the Yodel guy.
Scenario 2: You and the baby go swimming, you are delighted with how much she loves it, and you imagine that all the mothers and babies will waltz off afterwards for a restorative coffee and slice of cake, as suggested on the web site.
When to activate the button: When you realise that babies who have just been swimming are starving, furious, and don’t want to get changed. You spend ten minutes in a terrifically overheated changing room, dripping wet and with your swimming costume half on, listening to a chorus of wailing. You press the button and leave by yourself without your socks on, just remembering to take the baby, but not wanting to spend another minute with any human being ever again.
Scenario 3: Several nights in a row are spent with a baby who breastfeeds, falls asleep, and wakes up hungry twenty minutes later. This carries on in a loop between 8 and 10 pm.
When to activate the button: Next time you go to Boots you realise that you haven’t finished an evening conversation, let alone an episode of Masterchef, for weeks. You press the button and buy some ‘hungry baby’ formula.
Scenario 4: It is a lovely day. The baby is snoozing. You have garden furniture that needs varnishing. Time to get cracking!
When to activate the button: Immediately, if not sooner. This is clearly mad behaviour, and neither your baby nor your furniture will benefit. Instead, you’ll end up with a half-varnished table, a half-varnished patio, and, potentially, a half-varnished baby. You’ll also have to make a belated afternoon trip to B&Q to buy white spirit. (Nb as you may have guessed, this was a time I failed to push the button).
Scenario 5: You wake up in the morning full of confidence that you can have a healthier day, particularly vis a vis wine, which you have started having a glass of at 6pm every day,
largely to differentiate between afternoon and evening.
When to activate the button: at 6pm.

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