For the last 4 years I have been Mummy.
Its a job, I’m proud of it in some respects. Slowly but surely I stopped being funny care free Caz and became “Mummy”. Over the years your identity changes, first when I used to go to the baby groups I would introduce myself as Caz before I mentioned my child’s name, but by the time playgroup hits your in the bracket of *Charlotte’s Mummy*. I put my own hand up and say I’m bad for it too. Somewhere along the line you loose your own name and your childs name becomes part of your own.
I couldn’t put a finger on when this event took place, my first name no longer existing. Maybe it was at one of the many birthday parties. Where you join the crowd of parents, who are all in the same boat, waiting like the designated driver to take the sugar high children home.
Now nearing the end of nursery. I have done drop offs and pick ups for over a year. I stand there, with the other 39 keepers of our little mess makers. You would be lucky if I could tell you half of the names of the grown ups but I could pair them up with the right kid and tell you the child’s name. I could probably even tell you some of the interesting facts that I have gained from my own small person. Such as, Alfred likes cold peas.
The reason for this blog post, I watched my oldest go up to a little girl she had never met, in a park and asked “would you come and play with me and be my friend ?”. When do we stop doing that? There was no fear of rejection, no fear in asking another person to be your friend. When did children have the upper hand.
Maybe it’s time for grownups to be more “kid” like. Hello I’m Caz, do you want to eat cake and be my mummy friend.