Putting baby on the shelf.
So we’ve been enjoying our stay at Center Parcs this week with lots of sunshine, playing on the beach,
We’ve enjoyed walks in the sunshine and spotting all the animals that scurry about but most of all we’ve enjoyed the pool.
We’ve been swimming inside and out, going down slides and rapids and generally just splashing about, it’s all been great until we get to the changing room.
So the changing rooms are equipped with family changing cubicles with baby change shelves and a larger amount of room to move about in, all well and good. But when there are two children to dry and dress, one of which will be confined to the changing shelf, the other worming around and trying to explore every corner of the limited space there is, usually round by the bin area, things can become a little flustered, nevermind the fact that you also need to put clothes on!
So we’ve already wrangled the boys out of their wetsuits and into a dressing gown before we’ve left the poolside – Boom!! Winning. They are practically dry before we’ve even found a cubicle.
So now we have to get them dressed, the eldest is not so bad, it’s mainly the littlest one who is confined to the shelf.
So the littlest one HATES lying down for his nappy to go on, to limit screaming I put his nappy on whilst he stands up, fine until he lurches in a different direction to where I’m trying to put his nappy on, then he attempts to try and scale my upper body to get even closer to my face than he ready is, all while I’m trying to force small defiant limbs into vests and joggers.
In a bid to make the changing process quicker I’ve undressed and wrapped myself in a towel hoping to be dry once I’ve finished wrestling a small mound of wriggly flesh….cue towel slipping off and standing butt naked all while still wrestling with said small child.
“Look mummy’s big bottom”
Cheers son, just what I wanted shouted in the changing rooms.
Anyway so now I’m stood starkers putting on the littlest one’s socks and shoes, he’s spotted a rogue boob swinging about and is attempting to grab a nipple, pincer like pinch and I’m muffling a squeal.
“Wiggle wiggle” as I feel two little hands jiggle my bottom and slap my thighs- the two year old has escaped and is roaming free and is slapping my cold bare slightly damp arse.
The littlest one has now pulled off one shoe and sock and is sucking on said sock whilst I groan, give up and attempt to dress myself.
Now this requires the fastest of dressing as my youngest has decided he wants to explore what’s over the side of his containment shelf. One arm is out creating a barrier whilst the other hand is attempted to loop knickers round my ankles and pull them up one handed, next is the skinny jeans….slight damp legs and skinny jeans DO NOT mix. I attempt to use my own body as a barrier to stop my one year old from toppling over the edge of the baby change which results in me bent over wrestling on my jeans with a one year old attempting to crawl onto my back.
Two year old comes over whilst I’m bent over “oooh mummy’s boobies” and swings them about. I feel abused right now and disgusted that my boobs “swing” so much – like spaniels ears in the wind just flapping about – damn you breastfeeding!!!
Once I’ve finally wiggled into my jeans I’ve just the last hurdle, putting my top on. This will require not having my eyes on either child for a few seconds – doesn’t help when I try to push my head through the arm of my top. As soon as I poke my head through I am greeted by my one year old lurching towards me with a soggy sock in his mouth and he grapples round my neck. I forget my own socks and just throw my boots barefoot whilst being mid strangle and forced to eat a sock that has been pushed into my face.
As I throw everything into the bag and scurry out of the cubicle I observe in envy women who are blow drying and brushing their hair and touching up their makeup, I on the otherhand literally look like I’ve been dragged upstream as hair is still plastered to my forehead. I have a small child under one arm who’s adamant that he wants to look at the floor and a two year old running on ahead amongst the sea of bodies millingvabout as I carry the bag of wet swim stuff and towels, I quickly realise I’m feeling a little “swingy” and realise the “ears” are free and I am bra less…well at least I have my knickers on!
Just your usual trip to the pool. #alwaystheglamourmum