Ah, motherhood, t'is good. Life is inching towards more of a routine. I try to get out with Hugh most days, and a new phenomenon has arisen - sizing up potential 'mummy' pals.
When I see suitable candidates in the local supermarket or cafes, I have an urge to start baby conversations in the hope that we can become New Mum Pals. (Often I'm timorous - as if I'm back at school and have to choose one of the boys for a country-dance partner). So - attributes of a suitable NMP candidate?
Woman pushing pram. Woman over 30, preferably over 35 (22 year olds need not apply - sorry!) An occasional strand of grey hair that has escaped the hair dye (I'll empathise). Nice coat or clothes I would love to own myself. A sense of humour. Of course, you can only detect humour after you have risked a few opening lines, hence the gambling nature of the situation.
I'm off to a mother and baby group tomorrow. It's in a church hall and they have sofas and rugs like an episode of Friends. There's a kitchen too and local woman run a wee cafe with great-value lunches. I'm so impressed with people who have vocational jobs and provide real community service. The people who make soup and pancakes from the goodness of their hearts, and then tidy the toys away at the end. Quiet heroism, if you ask me.