Slummy Mummy and the Coffee Shop of Despair

Some days you’re the pigeon and some days you’re the statue, today dear reader, I’m Nelson’s Column (before the pigeon ban).

95% of the time I reckon we got really lucky with Evelyn. She sleeps pretty well, will feed from breast or bottle and has avoided allergies, colic and many of those other baby niggles that can make life as a new parent a real struggle. But even the teachers pet has her off days and this week she seems just plain grumpy. We’ve had several days of almost constant whining and I’m stumped as to the cause. Her first two teeth are through, so shouldn’t be hurting her now and she’s showing no signs of any more being immanent or of any other problems. My Mum has often told me how, when I was a baby, they wished I could talk and tell them what was wrong, I can sympathise with that right now. (The second part of the reminiscence was how, once I could talk, they wished I’d shut up for a few minutes, perhaps there may be a future post on that!)
I had hoped that this afternoon would cheer her up as it was our third baby swimming lesson. She did manage a little smile as I swished her through the water chanting “kickkickkickkickkick” in my best high-pitched excited voice, but the second underwater dunking of the session proved too much and the rest of the class we skulked in the corner with her wailing and me trying desperately to distract her with a pink plastic boat. By the time both of us were dryish and dressed I was exhausted and with an awkward amount of time left before bed I decided to invoke the emergency response – the coffee shop of despair.
I’m not a great fan of Starbucks, in fact I suspect they are the evil empire. I don’t even think their coffee is all that good, but there are times when a girl just needs a skinny mocha and this was one of those times. It’s a strange but true fact that a tired baby taken home will wake up the second you go through the front door, but taken somewhere else, s/he may just stay calm, all the same it’s best to get the coffee in a take away cup just in case. There was a brief squawk, just enough to draw glares of disapproval from the suit at the next table, but I managed most of my coffee, a phone call, a couple of texts and a quick email check before running for the door, so, and this may be the only time I ever say this, God Bless Starbucks (but here’s hoping I don’t find myself there again any time soon).

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